In the Afterglow of Terror
by hippiechick2112
Summary: The war is over. Hawkeye and Jeanie must now navigate a startling new civilian life and cope with the losses sustained as their postwar experiences leave them with no choice but to be strong. Outtakes and additions for the series "This Forsaken War" and story two of the series "Through the Early Morning Fog".
1. A Churning Sea

**In the Afterglow of Terror**

 **Note and Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the characters and plots of _M*A*S*H_ , but the character of Captain Jeanie Morrison belongs to me. These are outtakes and some made up scenes from the series "This Forsaken War" and the second story in the series "Through the Early Morning Fog", an ending to the narrator and the M*A*S*H family. Enjoy!**

* * *

I think what initially impressed me the most about the Maine shoreline was that dark, churning sea. It was always bobbing up and down through the storm, never-ending and strong. As the rain poured, the waters rolled and then crashed against the sandy, rocky shoreline, smashing it to pieces before pulling back and repeating its assault. The attacks lasted from the airport in Portland all the way to the small town of Crabapple Cove.

From the small back window of Daniel Pierce's 1940 Packard, I eyed the running water with amazement and even mysticism. My backseat offered less of a view than the front, but nonetheless allowed me to study this new place I was supposed to name my home. Indeed, from the moment Hawkeye and I landed in California, the concept of being in the United States was foreign to me. Even in Bloomington, I was a fish out of the water. Here in Maine, I was studying it as eagerly as I initially did with each new assignment in the Army, thinking it the most amazing sight ever.

Honestly, the airport was the first place I saw in this state that had been darkened by the storm that followed us from Illinois to here. From there, my surroundings had been obscured by the same squall that grew grim as the shoreline threatened to overtake the road and its inhabitants nearby. Even the run to the car had been covered since the rain had been so heavy and all of us eager to take shelter. It was not a good welcome home, to be honest, and quite gruesome.

In any case, maybe today was not the best time to check everything out. I mean, everyone was so concerned about the coastline flooding and getting back safely that my musings would distract them, Daniel (as the driver) most of all. He even kept checking me every so often through the center mirror up front too, turning his head so that he caught my grey eyes. He winked a few of those times too, like we had a secret between us, and would continue driving and asking Hawkeye inane questions. They had not seen each other in over three years. There was so much catching up to do before he got to know me.

Hawkeye wasn't very talkative. From the moment we entered the vehicle (Daniel and Hawkeye in the front and Shannon and myself in the back), the father in Daniel refrained from inquiring about Korea and instead talked of trivial things. He mindlessly gossiped about Crabapple Cove and its people, referred to members of the Pierce family I hardly heard of and mentioned household chores and clinic problems. Hawkeye nodded every now and then, offering a word or two of opinionated commentary and perhaps a joke or three, and remained silent otherwise.

I alone could understand why he was so hesitant in chatting. It seemed a short time ago for the both of us that we were in Korea. Not even two weeks ago, we had been dodging bullets and bombs and patching up wounded soldiers that were young enough to take their sweethearts to the prom. Now, in this strange afterglow of civilian life, in this bewildering environment that we hardly understood anymore, we had to leave behind months of primitive living, little sleep, heavy drinking and staring death in the face daily. We now had to join together in a non-military matrimony that included a beautiful little girl that stared at me with interest and my overly cautious father-in-law that did not know what to say.

I smiled in encouragement at this daughter of mine. Sure, she recognized who I was and had been brazen enough to be calling Hawkeye her Daddy too, that proud little mite. In this car ride though, she was as quiet as her father, tossing her grey eyes between all three adults. She was familiar with Daniel and looked to him for the answers often, but it was me and Hawkeye that she had to be more acquainted with. Her inquisitiveness got the best of her and she crawled over to me, resting her head against my side.

"Mommy," she said contently. She knew what it meant and filled her small voice with love of the name. "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy."

"Apparently, she had been reminded everyday of the two of you," Daniel added after her. He again was watching us fleetingly. "I continued it."

"Well, we didn't know –" I began awkwardly. I did not like the time that Hawkeye denied himself the time to grieve the loss of our daughter and somehow felt the need to mention it.

"I'm sure she appreciated it," Hawkeye interrupted quickly. When he checked on me, he sent me a warning eye. He then paused, directing the conversation back to his Dad. "I'm glad to be home though."

Nobody disagreed with that assessment. However, it also ended all discussion about the war and our absence from life itself, lasting for about fifteen minutes. Towards the line between another small town and finally Crabapple Cove, I noticed that Hawkeye started relaxing. He eagerly was trying to check out everything around us like a child trying to figure out what to buy at the local candy store and finding the selection too much. He wiped his window free of condensation and tried hard not to fog it up, waving here and there to the brave walkers outside he knew and exclaiming that some had changed.

Daniel chuckled at the observation. "You wouldn't believe how many people are asking about you."

"Oh?" Hawkeye raised an eyebrow, his eyes still on the scenes in the rain. He did not glance back at his father.

"People have been… _curious_ …about your daughter and wife. I said as much as I could without causing a scandal."

"Dad, I _am_ a scandal in this town. I think I just about chased every skirt before leaving for Boston."

"This one is a little different than chasing the local Catholic school girls. Especially since some found out Shannon was born before you two married, some had been…well, they have been distraught that traditional conventions were broken."

"I hardly find that upsetting."

Daniel sighed, sounding exasperated that something had to be explained to his son several more times. "Hawkeye –"

"It's no matter now," Hawkeye interjected to avoid an argument. "We're home. We're married. That is what matters."

His father nodded, suddenly taking a side road that caused the car to bounce and splash mud on the windows. Shannon held onto me tightly, gripping my green uniform to ensure that we did not get hurt. It was a scary gesture for us both, I thought, and one that was perhaps engrained into her by fear or empathy. I could not tell which yet. There was so much catching up to do and much more to learn about this little girl. The newborn that spent a week in my arms in Korea was now a young toddler with thoughts and feelings. That concept alone brought tears to my eyes.

 _It's not fair._

But all was coated in injustice and hypocrisy when it came to war and its endless and empty ceasefires. While news of the armistice was the greatest we had yet to experience in our time in hell, the fact that Syngman Rhee did not sign the truce meant that both North Korea and its southern counterpart would be at each other's throats for years. It might mean us heading back there if the Army so chose to draft, but I doubted it with the promises given to me. The UN presence in the ROK would keep things heated (if not interesting) for some time and a new generation's blood will be spilled. The split between the two was complete and we were home. Peace was all I desired now that the politics and death were behind us.

Despite that, I could not dwell on what was now thousands of miles away. I gazed forward into the unknown, tolerating the bumps on the muddy pathway and the few times we stopped and Daniel had to go out with Hawkeye to push the car out of a rut and I had to take the wheel. By the time we reached what was supposed to be my new home, it was nighttime. The storm had hardly stopped and was continuing to beat on us as we exited the car and brought in what few belongings came with us from Korea.

Shannon ran ahead and opened the door for all of us, the last one in. With many thanks from all three of us (Daniel even grabbed some of our luggage and his hands were full), I eyed the huge house with trepidation. I was not exaggerating. The place _was_ very large. It appeared to be three floors high (with the top perhaps being an attic) and an extension that might have housed some vehicles or was a supply room. The porch wrapped around the structure strongly, but like the rest of the building, was slicked in what appeared to be dried salt from the ocean several yards away in the back.

 _It's a beach house!_

I sort of imagined that Hawkeye lived in a fairy tale place like this. After all, he described Crabapple Cove as the best there could be when it came down to growing up. The small town offered shoreline swimming, hunting and camping and all of it spanning the extraordinary perimeter that rural Maine towns had. Everyone knew each other and their business, greeted each other by name and never turned out a stranger. Granted, Hawkeye warned me beforehand that it was somewhat conservative here (much like Bloomington), but that had been something I was used to. Residing with my mother and then the Army gave me that kind of experience.

The first place that greeted me was some type of living room. Straight head were stairs that headed to the second floor (and another smaller set went to the next story). On the left was a door to a closet. On the right was an opening to a large space, complete with a few couches, coffee table, a working and much-used fireplace with a mantle and many, _many_ pictures on the walls. On the far end was a dining area with table and chairs and a door that read PRIVATE and DO NOT ENTER.

Aimlessly shucking off his green Army coat, Hawkeye stood in the closed doorway with me. While Daniel and Shannon made themselves at home and carried on with their usual activities, we remained behind to check things out. The shock and awe look on his face was about the same as mine. He was someplace where he knew, a familiar zone that he took comfort in before he was shipped off to Korea. He took it all in, breathing deeply in and out before settling himself on the couch where Shannon was coloring.

Copying him, I placed my catchy outerwear on top of his on the floor and followed him. While he took a spot on the end, I ended up on the arm of the furniture. I didn't know how to feel. Sure, this was a beautiful place from what I had been able to see. This new dwelling was also where I would feel happy and would have settled down in.

At the same time, I felt like a foreign visitor as I was in Korea. It was easy to see my husband and daughter blend in like they belonged. Their perfect positions smoothed over the plain canvas and made the picture complete and without a blemish. I was the oddball color on the outside, ready to ruin it at a moment's notice even though I had been a part of Hawkeye's life for three years now. I would be the inept, foolish outsider that would blotch the portrait and make it worse off.

I didn't want to think of myself that way. I was supposed to be a resident of this house and be its primary caretaker eventually. I was Hawkeye's wife and Shannon's mother. This abode by the sea was supposed to be my sanctuary and the place where I would spend the rest of my life hopefully. I was not to be a guest, forever asking permission and behaving perfectly. I can relax and be myself here.

For the time being though, I would have to be content with just observing how things work and learn the ropes of being a housewife on my own later. Already, Hawkeye was beginning to get back into the swing of things, although he was reluctant to touch Shannon and take the joy that was snatched away because of the war and the finale it dealt him. For now, he smiled wanly as she used her crayons like an expert, scribbling lines all over paper that appeared to be pre-filled pages meant for patient reports.

Hawkeye noted that and called Daniel over for clarification. I had not noticed where he had disappeared off to. Indeed, he came back rushing into the living room with a tray full of sandwiches and glasses full of what appeared to be tea. He placed that on a coffee table nearby and raised an eyebrow at his son.

"What?" he huffed, out of breath from Hawkeye's panicked tone. He was worried too, willing to take on our whims until we recovered. "Is everything all right?"

"Is she allowed – I mean, can Shannon…?" Hawkeye began indecisively, pointing at the papers.

"Yes," Daniel replied laughingly. He was relieved. "She has the run of the place actually. Somebody supplanted your spot."

I giggled. "Somebody stole Hawkeye's spotlight?"

"And is proud of it." Daniel grinned. "You can't blame her."

"I wouldn't." I glanced at Hawkeye. The conversation with his Dad was easy for me, which made the atmosphere a little less stroppy, and it allowed me some teasing. "I'm sure her grandfather likes to instigate a little."

"You bet!"

"Is there a routine?"

"She'll show you how everything is done, Jeanie. She's lived here long enough to know that this is where she'll live until she's grown."

"And you?"

Daniel shrugged his shoulders. "It's something we'll work out later. Come on. Eat some dinner. I'm sure you're all starving."

Hawkeye laughed. "Jeanie was driving. That was enough to work up an appetite!"

"I am _not_ that bad." I thought about punching him and decided against it. Shannon was watching me closely and taking cues from my interaction with Hawkeye and I didn't want to set a bad example. "Besides, it's not like we had to drive at breakneck speed to get away."

"Get away…from _what_?" Daniel was confused.

"Nothing," Hawkeye quickly interjected, shooting me a look that spoke of our secrets. He grabbed a random sandwich, chewing and swallowing.

We all copied his motions. While Shannon was interested in everything _but_ the bread crust, we all relaxed into something that resembled normalcy. However, the silence was deafening until Daniel spoke out in appreciation of our arrival, sentences repeated. There wasn't much to say in this afterglow except words of gratitude, hope and joy. Words about Korea had to wait if we wanted to say them. I found that I didn't want to, taking comfort from the one person who would understand.

Forsaking Hawkeye for a few minutes, I studied Daniel while I chewed on a turkey and cheese sandwich slowly (again, there was that pasty taste in my mouth). He most certainly was projecting light in such a way that spoke volumes of his character. Even though words on paper and reassurances from Hawkeye informed me that he was kind and generous, he most certainly showed me how wonderful it was for him to have a new daughter-in-law and granddaughter in his home. His aura spoke of his soft nature and a resolve to keep strong. I wasn't just some stray cat he was letting in. I was a new member of his family.

 _At least that won't ruin the picture too much._

When dinner was finished, Daniel picked up the dirty dishes and carried them away, swatting away my protests to help. "Shannon needs a bath," he offered instead as he disappeared into the kitchen. "Hawkeye, why don't you show Jeanie upstairs and get the warm water going?"

He agreed with a grunt, pulling me up from my position with ease and guiding me to the stairwell to show me our destination. Shannon knew the humdrum well, zipping past us at breakneck speed and racing us upstairs, shouting all the way. Without thinking, I chased after her, laughingly saying that I was going to get her. I even rushed away from Hawkeye enough to catch her, swinging her around and around as she giggled hysterically. Then, she jumped out of my arms and continued her quest to strip herself for her soaking, reaching the bathroom fast.

Hawkeye soon joined us silently. He passed me, moving the shower curtain aside and running some water. While he filled the tub and added some bubbles from a bottle nearby, Shannon looked to me for assistance with her clothes. I obliged without question, casting them to one side in a hamper. Afterward, naked as the day she was born, I held her close to me, sniffing her black hair and imagining the few days I held her as an infant. She squirmed out just as Hawkeye finished and climbed in herself.

Finally, as Hawkeye left to go downstairs, I was alone with my daughter. It was like a dream come true and my feelings wanted to explode in this mesh of nonsense I couldn't comprehend. For the time being though, as I bottled it up, I watched her contently as she splashed around and blew the mounds of bubbles swirling around the water. She babbled about something, a boat maybe, and that got my mind rolling with a story. For a few short moments, I pretended that we were tossed in that churning sea, battling the waves to get home safely. Shannon giggled as I narrated the tall tale, making sound efforts that put Hawkeye to shame.

When Shannon got bored with the antics, she took some bath toys and played with them herself. I began washing her hair, untangling the knots with a comb on the sink behind me as the water rinsed away the soap. As I did, I heard some voices behind me. It was Hawkeye and Daniel. They were speaking quietly, but I heard bits of their conversation. I didn't meant to eavesdrop, but I was so worried about my first impression that I didn't care.

"Hawkeye, she looks ill." Daniel really sounded worried. "So do you. You're whiter than a ghost and you've aged. What the hell happened over there?"

"You wouldn't understand," Hawkeye said quietly. "This is one long trip I cannot explain to you, Dad. Maybe a little at a time, but not now."

"How do you expect to raise a family then?" Daniel pressed. It was the hardest he was on Love. "You need to be strong for Jeanie and Shannon. They're going to need you more than ever before. I won't be here forever."

The shame in Hawkeye's voice was obvious. "I know."

I stopped myself from rushing out to the hallway and defending Hawkeye. It wasn't my place. Indeed, it also raised some questions. We were considered normal in Korea, running on a lack of sleep, food and sanity, but here it was not acceptable to function as we did. There would be no more partying. The drinking would cease. No friends who experienced the same as we did would come to our rescue. There wouldn't even be an Army to poke fun of anymore. It was all gone and we were expected to survive the aftermath.

And somehow, all of it was a scary concept. It would be a challenge indeed to fall back into a pattern where primitive living did not exist. This was a civilian life, for God's sake, and we longed for it in Korea even as we assimilated to the conditions. I even dreamt of the day I would come here and begin anew, experiencing fantasy after fantasy to tie me over. Now that it was a reality, it was going to be more difficult than I thought possible and being strong would get be the key to us through.

 _Shit_.

This was one hurdle we both would have difficulties with. But I sure as hell was going to try. It wasn't just me and Hawkeye anymore. There is Shannon and Daniel and that's what made this more important and worthwhile too.


	2. Tours

It was after nine before Shannon was put to bed. While an hour before she would have been dozing, the excitement of seeing us allowed her the rare opportunity to stay up late. By the time the clock in the living room chimed the hour, she was already half-asleep in Hawkeye's arms on the couch and whining as she twirled in her Dreamland. Daniel picked her out of his son's careful watch and carried her upstairs. Hawkeye and I quietly followed Daniel to Shannon's bedroom, stepping over books and toys in the darkness. As Daniel laid her on the bed and covered her with a blanket, we kissed that sweet, innocent forehead and walked out.

Daniel closed the door behind him, the last person out. "Ok, now that the first child is showered and in bed, you two are next. Who's first?"

"Her," Hawkeye said immediately, pointing at me.

I was astonished by the choice. "Really?" Usually, I argued over the showers and he was my main antagonist.

"Are you sure about that?" Daniel asked Hawkeye.

Love shrugged his shoulders. "What harm is there?"

"She might take a while. It could be midnight before you get some hot water."

"Jeanie isn't that bad. She won't take too long."

I squealed girlishly in delight as a reply. Hawkeye and Daniel thought it amusing. The former mentioned how he never knew me to be so excited before and the latter told me he bought me shampoo and conditioner and some soap. However, I would need to prepare and get settled. Hawkeye walked downstairs with me to grab my bags and to sort my clothes in what would be our bedroom. I shadowed him, oddly not caring that I was silly.

From what I found out, it was next to Shannon's. Hawkeye flipped the light switch on, dragging his things in too and perching them on the bed. Daniel handled our footlockers and had them towed under the bed. I stood in the doorway as Daniel left, unsure if I could enter or not with Hawkeye. It wasn't that the feelings I previously had were childish. No, it was the opposite.

It was an oddity to have my own room with the person I love and for the first time too. The luxury was unlimited! There would be no Charles and BJ complaining about the noise. Frank would never say a word about my nakedness and stealing Hawkeye's underwear or acting like a fool. It was us and a door that separated the world from our privacy.

"You coming?" Hawkeye asked as he began to unpack on the bed.

I smiled. "Why wouldn't I?" I entered and claimed my side. While my footlocker had be dragged and tucked away for now, my luggage was easier to handle.

Hawkeye had me hang some of his things in the closet with mine (still claustrophobic). Daniel had put in an extra dresser and a vanity for my usage only (touching to me, an eyebrow-raiser for Hawkeye). Although I had little with the way of clothes, I attempted to fill the drawers of both pieces with what little I had left from Korea. Mostly, it was Army fatigues, the occasional boyish articles I used, patterns from Japan and Korea and some of Hawkeye's leftovers he hardly put miles into and didn't miss. The jewelry and makeup I gained over my tenure in Korea found a place too.

After a few minutes of fussing over placement, I snuck out to wash. Bundling a kimono, green shorts and a 4077th t-shirt in my hands, I tiptoed past Shannon's room and shut the bathroom door quietly behind me. I stripped myself of my uniform, tossing that into the hamper, and ran the water. Steam tickled through my fingers as I worked the mechanism to transform the bath into a shower. Then, I climbed in, closing the curtain behind me, and began scrubbing.

It didn't take long for me to realize that I was rushing through the motions. I half-expected some nurse or Tom peeker to knock on the door and claim their turn or have Colonel Potter announce that there was a water shortage. I slowed down, relaxing a little to enjoy the endless time I had without being on call. I found Daniel's choices perfect, using the scented liquids and cleanser to clean myself multiple times. By the third coating, Hawkeye was banging on the door and demanding what was taking so long. I had been in there for forty-five minutes.

"Can't a woman have some peace?" I shouted back, mindful that my daughter was sleeping nearby.

"Yeah, but not at the expense of those who await their turn," Hawkeye replied in a taunting manner.

I took the hint. Rinsing out the last of the soap, I shut everything down and dried off. I took my sweet time doing that too, wrapping my hair in the towel as I dressed. I emerged in a cloud and walked downstairs. I heard Hawkeye and Daniel talking about something quietly on the couch. When they saw me easing into their presence, they both ceased their conversation and looked at me. Chilled from the raw air, I wrapped myself tighter in the kimono and approached them.

Hawkeye pulled me towards him when I was within range and seated me in his lap. Daniel said nothing, picking up where they left off. Apparently, the two had been discussing some local business. While the clinic in the next town over (Belfast) had wanted Hawkeye upon his return from Korea, pressing matters in Crabapple Cove urged him to remain here because of what was at stake. Daniel (who worked there part time) was cautioning him to choose wisely since the clinic was now being run by someone who did not care for patient needs and solely spent his time collecting money and hounding ill people with bills, unnecessary care and a horrible bedside manner.

The politics made me sick. I had never worked for a civilian medical field like Hawkeye. I had been in military hospitals. While there were always procedures and paperwork one must go through, there was never a moment where somebody used their position for gain unless it was restraining a patient. Granted, the head nurses I worked for had been bitches who knew business and did not tolerate the crass comments from the sick and wounded men. This was purely disgusting.

Daniel noticed my discomfort. "I think we should put this off for now, Hawkeye. You just got home. There'll be another day to think about it."

I nudged Hawkeye in the shoulder. "Besides, it's your turn."

"If there's hot water left," he teased back.

"The hot water tank was replaced last year," Daniel offered. "There should be some hot water left, but not much."

"See?" I stuck my tongue out at Hawkeye. "I wasn't too bad."

"Almost an hour in there and I would have to call you a prune," Hawkeye said.

Daniel watched our exchange with amusement. Cutting into the biting as a moderator, he directed Hawkeye upstairs. Love agreed. I scooted off of his lap and allowed him to get up. Once he disappeared though, it left me with Daniel. The earlier conversation I had with him seemed to fade away. Indeed, the silence between us was a little awkward. However, I wanted to make the most of it and so did he. It was obvious that he loved me and did not mind me being around. The circumstances involving my joining the family did not faze him as much as the community did it seemed, but that was another story. I will discover more later.

"Hawkeye's told me a lot about you," Daniel began. "Yet, he likes to keep you all to himself. Where did you come from?"

"Bloomington, Illinois." I figured he did not seem to know about the endless moves I endured as a child before settling there.

"And you stayed in the Army for how long?" he asked.

"Thirteen years."

"And you wanted to leave because of Hawkeye and Shannon?"

I stopped myself from telling him about my CIA dealings, Flagg and West Germany. The story itself was unbelievable. I decided to save it for another rainy day. "In short, yes," I answered honestly. "I had to jump through some hoops to make it happen, but yes, I did."

Daniel was quiet for a moment. He appeared to be thinking. "That must have been very difficult."

"It was," I admitted.

He wanted to tell me something. The features on Daniel's face resembled a man who desired to spill all of his secrets and all of them of loneliness and despair over his only son. The anguish he must have endured when Hawkeye was in Korea was astonishing. Other than taking custody of Shannon, glimpsing at us alive had been the one of the best days of his life. I did not see Daniel at the airport initially when Hawkeye ran to see him, but the joy I witnessed upon our union was enough to let me know that he had been so worried about us.

"I think you're due for a tour of the house," Daniel finally said, clearing his throat. He stood up.

I did the same, following him around as he explained each room on the first floor. I was familiar with the living room and adjacent closet and the dining room. Nearby was the kitchen, with a back room and hallway that led to the porch and yard (which had some grass, a small garden and a clothes line) and the beach. The door with signs asking for privacy and no entry had been examination rooms. If nobody could reach the clinic, Daniel allowed the residents of the town to drop in.

It was also a sanctuary for him too. He did not say it in so many words, but Daniel sought solitude in those rooms when nobody was around. He was aware that I am a nurse and requested that I only be there when required. Once he and Hawkeye had established a more normal schedule, I was given freedom to set up the appointments here whichever way I liked. As I learned, usually people in Crabapple Cove came at all hours with all sorts of ailments, especially since they knew Daniel to be alone and Hawkeye overseas, but since the routine had changed, I was now in control. Daniel also showed me a list (posted in the kitchen) of who can come and who is considered annoying as hell.

The power to control this household was scary, albeit exciting. Me, alone to make the decisions of this abode by the sea? To tell people off if I wanted privacy and redirect them to another medical facility if time demanded it of me and my family? To refuse service to people who are outright nasty and shocking in their demands? To not be taken advantage of in my first days here?

It was unheard of, outrageous and even ridiculous. But I loved it.

Daniel saw the delight and continued the excursion. He led me to the small basement, where there was a new washer and dryer. There were some boxes there too, labeled and dusty with age, but Daniel did not express an interest to discuss them with me. He skimmed over their importance, explaining instead how he used the financial means I sent him to support Shannon while savings most of it in a bank account with mine and Hawkeye's name on it. Eventually, after I nodded in approval for his prudence and appropriate use of the funds I sent (which was almost all that was promised to me monthly), he showed me the upstairs and the second set of stairs leading up to the attic.

There was so much to digest that my head spun faster. Daniel stopped when he droned into the neighbors and what to expect from the locality. Noticing how confused I was, he stopped and decided that we should navigate to our point of origin. I conceded, behind him as we strolled down to the living room. We were again situated in the same positions we were when Hawkeye went to take his shower. Only this time, I was studying the black and white pictures on the wall above the mantel and the rows that accompanied them on the other partitions as well.

There were _so_ many of them, more than I realized. I recognized Daniel as a younger man with a woman who I knew to be his wife, nicknamed Annabeth because her Italian name was too hard to pronounce. Then, there was Hawkeye and a little girl who was similar in appearances to my own daughter except for the features that belonged to me. I deduced that she was Hawkeye's now-dead sister, Loretta. Their photos went for a few years before Hawkeye became the sole star in each shot. This continued for a while until one of Hawkeye stood out.

He was in uniform. It must have been before he was shipped to Korea and after basic training. He and Daniel were practically hugging each other in this photo, close to tears by the way their eyes shone. I was transfixed upon it, almost transported back in time over three years ago, when all the ROK had left to its name was Pusan and the bloody perimeter was moved along with us. Hawkeye never talked much about those days, choosing some nights to dedicate his drinking to the lonesome burden of Army training. BJ, Charles and I always toasted it, forgetting how tough it was to be in a camp where the only thing you had to listen to was a drill sergeant, teaching you how to save your own skin.

Daniel noticed where my attention was. "There's a few over there too," he said, pointing to another side, this time in the dining room. "I saved the best for last."

I obeyed his directions and was floored. I had to catch my breath. The ones he called the best had been of _us_. First, there was me and Hawkeye, maybe a month or so after we started dating. We were bundled up in the Korean autumn, smiling at a camera that did not show our mental anguish. Then, there was the three of us and Shannon, sitting in the Swamp together. I did not remember who took it (possibly Trapper or Henry, they both had cameras and little film). It was precious though and it brought tears to my eyes.

There was more from Korea, things I didn't think Daniel would proudly display. The Fort Dix one loomed large and recent. There were only a handful of us conducting random activities. Some had been of us actually posing or goofing around (depended on the moment) and others with our campmates. The last four had been our wedding, sent by Klinger as promised. Hawkeye and I had been dancing in one, stuffing cake in each other's mouths in the second, kissing in a corner of the Mess Tent in the third and waving goodbye in the jeep in the last.

The rest had been Shannon. While I could fill albums with that smile, Daniel had some that even I was envious of. Each month she marked a milestone, she grew larger and more like Hawkeye. The last few months, she had been the center of attention, drawn to the viewer as the prominent little lady of the house. There had been one of her outside or making sandcastles or even swinging on a bench on the porch. All of them, she was safe and quite happy. She was a very-much loved little girl.

Daniel broke me from my reverie. "I want to show you something else."

I was startled and only got up with Daniel as he pushed through to one more room on this floor. I thought he had shown me every nook and cranny in this house. This one I did not notice. He took a key out of his front pocket and opened a side door underneath the stairs. He excused himself for a moment, disappearing into the kitchen. He came back with a light bulb and vanished into the vast darkness ahead. When he popped his head out, a light flashed behind him.

He invited me in. "This was…my wife's private space," he introduced quietly. "She would come in here when she needed to be alone."

I entered. The room was chilly and practically bare. The walls were paled, the blue paint faded with age. Old boxes also graced the floor, crumpled down like accordions. There was an old secretary's desk next to a curtained window, sans a chair. Another window on the far left was covered. The rest of the room was empty.

"What do you mean?" I asked, flattered. "This is for _me_?"

"That's right," Daniel answered softly. He was speaking weakly, having to hold back his emotions. This was upsetting him more than he was letting on. "Everything your mother sends you, put it in there. Anything in here is yours. This is a room for you and what you used to be and do not want to show us. Outside, you're Jeanie Pierce, a wife and mother who needs to be strong and responsible. In here, you are Jeanie Morrison, a complex and multi-layered personality that nobody, not even Hawkeye, cannot see without your consent."

I was still amazed that Daniel had gifted me this. "What about Hawkeye though?"

"Don't worry about him. He'll understand that, in order to come into _your_ world, he needs to ask permission." Daniel rubbed his arms with his hands. "You've come into _his_ life and chose to leave behind _your_ life. Sometimes though, a woman needs to remember where she came from and why she walked away from it. You're stronger than you'll ever know, Jeanie. I hope you eventually understand that."

When we heard Hawkeye coming down the stairs with promises of gags and giggles, we decided to close shop and not talk of this in front of Hawkeye for now. Daniel handed me the key and closed up when we exited that cold room, forever leaving me in control of something else. I didn't know how to take it. In the meantime, we had more important matters to contend with, namely Hawkeye. He saw our exodus and stopped dead in his tracks, his mouth hung over in surprise.

Hawkeye stuttered a few words of disbelief. I couldn't comprehend them because they ran on, one sentence after another that did not make sense. It was a tad different than what I was used to. The sadness behind his mother and sister's deaths was definitely fueling this latest display of shock. I would have retaliated and uttered an apology, but his father got there first. Daniel put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and smiled. He whispered something in Hawkeye's ear. I didn't catch it, but it ceased Love's insistent noises.

Afterward, Daniel declared that he was ready for bed. He kissed Hawkeye's forehead and then mine before climbing up to his room. When the click from his bedroom echoed, Hawkeye shuffled his feet uncomfortably and mumbled something. When he was finished acting like a scared schoolboy, he slicked back his wet hair and offered to escort me to bed in his own silent way. I accepted, taking the silent trip as a sign. Hawkeye was pondering this new development. It wasn't a bad one, but the way his Dad acted was a total change from before.

Once Hawkeye ensured that all of the lights were doused behind us, he too shut our chamber door. He faced me as I crawled to my side of the bed. "Can I come in?"

I was confused for a moment until it hit me. Hawkeye was requesting permission to enter _my_ room downstairs. I thought for a moment. "Not yet. I need a few days to stew on that."

He accepted the answer. Taking his place on the opposite side, Hawkeye reached over to a lamp behind him and switched it off. He crawled closer to me and held on tightly, positioning my head underneath his. It was comfortable, but insomnia crept in. It was frightening in this new aftermath, full of terror and misunderstanding. Other than the relenting rain and waves outside, the only noise that could possibly lull us to sleep was the house creaking, swaying back and forth with the wind.

It was going to be another long night. If I wasn't going to dream of the war, Hawkeye will. If we were lucky, our surreal adventures would only consist of the innocent, walking hand-in-hand with avenues that did not have a bloodbath dirtying our boots and white gowns.

If only we were that fortunate…


	3. Dreams in the Endless Night

It was three in the morning and I couldn't sleep, sitting in the dining room as Hawkeye paced and ranted about something. My first night was already filled with images of Korea, of endless OR sessions and dead bodies and most of it without closing my eyes. I also woke up to Hawkeye screaming words I could not understand. I couldn't tell what it was about, but I do recall him yelling above our heads to make it stop, stop, _STOP NOW_!

I heard Shannon crying in the next room and Daniel running from his. He pulled our door open so fast that I thought it would come off of its hinges. He entered without thinking, stopping before the bed and panting. Wrapped in only a robe, he glanced in our direction and tried approaching. I had everything under control at that point, holding on Hawkeye as he sobbed on my shoulder. I waved him away, pointing to Shannon's room. Luckily, Daniel understood and rushed out, shushing my daughter in her dismay.

I raked my fingers through Hawkeye's hair. "Hush, Love, hush. We're home now. We're not in Korea anymore."

Hawkeye wasn't comprehending yet that we were no longer in our grim hell. It took an hour before he calmed down (by then, Shannon was asleep and Daniel retreated into his bedroom). When he did, he woke up from his nightmare, shaking and breathless. He was startled, jerking himself from my arms. He retreated back to his side of the bed, staring at me with wide eyes.

"Did I…?" He trailed, unsure of admitting a supposed crime.

I nodded. "It's ok. Your Dad took care of Shannon."

He was not reassured by the prospect. Getting up, he grabbed his red bathrobe and exited. He checked on Daniel in his room and they spoke a few words. Some of them were angry and others defensive. His Dad wasn't quite understanding the situation and tried reaching out, but Love didn't want that just yet, pushing away that old comfort. However, once that fuss had been saturated, Hawkeye left his Dad and passed me, stomping down the stairs. Thinking that he would wake up Shannon again, I wrapped himself in my Army jacket and tailed after him, hissing at him to be quiet.

And that was how we ended up in the dining room at that ungodly hour. I was nervous watching Hawkeye marching in those shadows, attempting a few times to stop his madness and get him to bed. None of my ministrations worked. He shouted that he wanted me to leave him alone and that I wouldn't understand what he was going through. In his rage, he didn't see that his actions were affecting the whole household and that the other inhabitants might be upset over his episode.

I suppressed a scream of outrage. Of course I knew what he went through, but I wasn't going to wake people up pointing it out. I remained calm, sitting down once more to state my case. "Hawkeye, we both experienced similar atrocities in Korea. I cannot say who was worse or not. But I'm not going to be able to help you if you can't tell me what's bothering you. Please, _please_ , open up to me. Tell me what's wrong."

Hawkeye stopped his raving lunacy for a moment and glared at me with a self-righteous gaze. He pulled himself together well, holding back his tears of shame and apologies. He sat down next to me, taking my hand into his. The other held onto my chin so that I had no choice but to meet his eyes. He gripped both tightly.

"I forgot," Hawkeye admitted. "It's easy to push away people. I'm sorry, Jeanie."

"I know." I did the same to Lorraine and was angrier than Hawkeye was about it. It was a grievous feeling and one I never liked. "How about some coffee? I don't know about you, but I'm not going back to sleep."

Hawkeye agreed, releasing me. This allowed me the chance to escape to the kitchen and explore on my own on my first day as a housewife. With an overhead light on, I spent a few minutes checking where things where, from utensils to plates and cups and even the pots and pans. Hawkeye trailed nearby and was underfoot, stepping on my heel every time I turned around. He was also pointing out where things were. It was appreciated, but also very annoying.

I shooed him away, caught in his arms. "Off with you. I'm busy."

"You don't know the first thing about working a kitchen," Hawkeye teased, swinging me around like I did to Shannon the night before. He put me down when he tired. "I was trying to help."

Humbled, I mumbled my own apologies and listened to Hawkeye's directions. Alcoholic beverages and glasses were hidden in a top corner hideaway (most of it consisted of wine anyway). Mugs and cups were underneath. Plates and bowls were in the cabinet next to the sink. Forks, knives and spoons and other similar items were in a drawer opposite of the stove and near the sink. Our target, the coffeemaker, was easily spotted, sitting in a burner and grimy from the day before.

Hawkeye grabbed some fresh coffee grinds from a container as I washed the glass pot and filled it with water. We worked together to assemble the pot and set it on the stove. Transfixed, we watched as the water changed to the delicious beverage. Upon its complete transformation, I poured two cups. Hawkeye had grabbed the sugar and milk and we added what we wanted accordingly. Then, with the ingredients put away, he took my hand again, guiding me to the door. We were going outside.

It was still dark when we entered the rear side of the porch. Hawkeye easily found a swing bench nearby and we settled down, reaching above his head to twist a nob on a lantern. We were soon consoled by the swaying motion caused by the wind, the wavering light keeping our yellow circle small and concealed. As Hawkeye used his feet to continue the rocking, I looked out on the horizon, seeing the choppy water crash over the rocks and sand. It was calming too, an eerie sort of quiet that soothed my soul. I sipped my coffee. This was unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

 _Maybe this won't be so bad after all._

"What were you dreaming of?" I asked Hawkeye. I hoped he would confront with me.

He mused on my question for a minute before answering. "The night Shannon was born."

"I was not aware." My voice was soft. "I'm so sorry, Hawkeye."

He curled up next to me, an arm around my shoulder. "I know, Love. I know."

Honestly, I couldn't remember that night well and picked up on bits and pieces as I mulled it over in my mind. I do recall that the camp had to be evacuated and Henry, Hawkeye and Radar chose to remain behind with me. My labor had coincided with the bombing from the North Koreans and nobody wanted me giving birth on an unsanitary truck. The rest of the horrors had been a mystery to me, one image blurred into another. I slept some after my daughter was born and took every waking chance I had to be with her for the one week she was an infant in my arms.

I didn't probe any further and threw out my memories. That had been almost two years ago. Now, we were home and our daughter was safe and sound. Hawkeye did not need to worry about keeping us away from the typical dangers of war anymore and would check for molestation from my stepfather later. The only true headaches we would have will concern potty training, schools, friends and eventually car keys, prom and possibly a boyfriend or girlfriend. If that was all we had to deal with as parents, I would take that over war any day. Being the sneaky one between me and Dean (although he had his moments too) and retaining some skills drilled into me by Flagg, I can at least anticipate Shannon's next moves.

And that was another mystery for me to solve. How to be a mother was something I never went through before. At sixteen, I lost my son when I was maybe five months along, raped by my own stepfather and impregnated in the most dishonorable and appalling way. For years afterward, I denied myself that particular forbidden fruit, believing that having a child meant death and heartbreak. Shannon had been next, the closest thing that would describe those same feelings. Her transfer back to the States meant my heart broke and my tears endless. This too delayed my training.

I would have to learn on the job, I resolved, much like everything else. I would take the best from my mother and Lorraine and some odd things I learned myself and combine them into one. Granted, I'm sure that everyone was going to put in their two cents and attempt to tell me what to do. I hoped that Daniel would not be one of them. He had a routine with my daughter and he stated already that Shannon would show me the way. While it seemed that he was indicated that he was giving me the space to work, those doubts still gnawed at me.

Hawkeye pulled my attention elsewhere soon enough. "Isn't this beautiful?"

I didn't know what he was referring to until I saw it too. At what seemed like the edge of forever, a disc of orange, yellow and red glared and then flickered. The new illumination reflected on to the water and rose slowly, highlighting the ocean and brightening it to a more blue hue instead of the grey from the night before. The sun was coming up.

I felt my breath being taken away, held tightly by this view. It was the most stunning thing I had ever seen in my life and one I would be able to picture again and again. It was too surreal, almost like I had been in one of my fantasy dreams while living in Korea and imagining this from the descriptions Hawkeye painted for me. And there I was, living this new vision with the one person I loved and sharing the new dawn with him.

The sun rose high in the sky, revealing the damage from the storm the day before. Although the sands had been beaten down by the water, the erosion from the harsh pounding was evident. Some garbage dotted here and there and the seagulls picked through it, attempting to find their breakfast. Some voices from the adjacent houses echoed in our direction, all of it inquiring about food, rest and the new day's work. A shrill woman's screech was the most prominent. She was yelling at some poor slob about waking up and doing some chores.

"What was that?" I was curious. It seemed to ruin the effect.

Hawkeye didn't want to answer. He had to keep me in the loop about the townspeople though and only sighed when he chose to reply. "Mrs. Pettigrew."

"Oh, that woman you told me about?"

He nodded, emptying his coffee cup. He placed the mug next to the swing. "She's raising her grandson Larry. Early morning, without fail, the sheets are yanked and poor Larry is up and running."

I found the tone flippant. "I don't think she's as bad as you think she is. I refuse to believe that. If your Dad socializes with her and trusts her, then she can't be all bad."

Hawkeye chuckled, amused by my supposed ignorance. His point was driven home when Mrs. Pettigrew decided to ante up the volume. When Larry didn't move out of bed fast enough, she screamed louder and threatened to toss him in the ocean for shark food. This prompted some crashing, possibly on the grandson's part, and then silence. That dragon had been appeased and was munching away on her just rewards.

I didn't think I would be prejudice towards our new neighbors, but this was a ridiculous notion and one I thought best to keep to myself. Raising a grandson and rousing him like ramble every morning? That wasn't my cup of tea. Not to mention, it was abuse. My own memories attested to it, recalling visiting my father before he disappeared to who-knows-where for years. Every night Dean and I slept over, we were awoken by no later than five in the morning. Daddy would already be sounding off reveille and smacking the bottoms of our feet with a plank of wood if we did not wake up in a timely fashion.

"You'll see," Hawkeye eventually said. "I'm sure she'll be over soon."

"Is she nosy?" I inquired.

" _Very_ much so. She's also known Dad for many years. She knows everything about the Pierce family."

I gulped. "So, I take it your Dad told her about us?"

"No, not intentionally," Hawkeye carefully replied.

I leaned away from Hawkeye and finished my coffee. Already, I was seeing trouble in this conservative town. If Mrs. Pettigrew is one of those older women who detests people like us, then we're in for some flak. With Hawkeye's skirt-chasing past, I'm sure she already disapproved of his lifestyle. Catholic school girls in uniform was nothing compared to what we conducted in Korea. Daniel wouldn't know all of the intimate details, but enough was written and deduced from our words. If he shared anything with this dragon, she would piece together the puzzle and come up with the whole picture.

An hour after the sun rose, Daniel snuck outside and stood next to the bench. Finding the lantern unnecessary for now, he shut it off and cleared his throat. "Breakfast is on the table. Children are up first and cook eats last."

" _Children_?" Hawkeye pretended to be outraged. "Good Sir, I wholeheartedly protest to being named a member of the younger species."

"Shannon is already changed and eating," he continued with a smirk. He found Hawkeye's humor refreshing. "Your food will be cold if you don't hurry."

We took that as a hint to move. Gathering our mugs, we reentered into the kitchen (dishes placed in the sink) and beelined to the dining room. Already, two plates of French toast graced each place. Fresh cups of coffee had been filled and the milk and sugar were within reach. Shannon ignored the goodies nearby, focused on using her fork correctly and feeding herself. While that had been difficult for her, drinking down her milk wasn't. She often reached for it, downing little sips and licking the wet white moustache above her lips.

I took my plate and moved it next to my daughter. Hawkeye raised an eyebrow and said nothing, doing the same and seating himself on the other side of Shannon. When we settled into a quiet rhyme, we took turns attempting to be parents. It was very strange at first. I made the first move, asking Shannon if she needed help with her food. She shook her head and continued to shakily bring the fork to her mouth, dropping bits of bread and butter all over her dress.

I retreated and thought again how to approach my little girl. I decided that setting an example was a good idea for the time being since we weren't too close yet. Shannon thought us mysterious anyway, emulating our every move. Indeed, that had helped and she improved somewhat. However, what made it less uncomfortable was Hawkeye. Like magic, he pulled out his Groucho nose and glasses and put them on, continuing with his breakfast like normal. This piqued Shannon's curiosity, causing her to reach over and honk on the foamy nose.

From there, it was fair game. The meal transformed into a giggle fest. Between Hawkeye and Shannon, the place lit up with their hilarity and fun. Hawkeye made obnoxious noises every time Shannon touched him. She would return with a ringing laughter, repeating it over and over again. By the time Daniel joined us with his French toast and coffee, the two had not only eaten their food, but also had created a mess on the table. The syrup bottle overturned, Shannon's milk was mixed with her food and dipping to the floor and all clothing involved had been stained with butter, dairy and grease.

Daniel was pleased. "It's nice to see the children at play again," he commented quietly as he took his first bite. "It's been a long time."

Hawkeye ignored the comment. He was enjoying himself so much (the opposite of what he was earlier in the morning), opting to take Shannon upstairs for a bath. She was very excited, clamoring for Daddy to play with her. Hawkeye obliged the request, calling himself an ogre and claiming to be kidnapping our princess to the tower full of bubbles. Picking up the sticky toddler from her seat, Hawkeye rushed upstairs with her, laughing all the way.

I sighed in relief. Honestly, I wasn't too sure how Hawkeye was going to react with Shannon. The day before at the airport, he was so nervous holding her that I swore he would have had a nervous breakdown and claimed that he was smothering her. Now, a day later, he was gallivanting with her like nothing happened. I mean, it was easy to see how adorable our daughter was. There was no way somebody could look at her and claim that she was unlovable. However, Hawkeye was a different matter and I hoped that he would see past that dead baby on the bus.

Daniel saw the situation the same way I did. "I was worried he'd disassociate himself from Shannon," he remarked.

"I thought so too." I nodded in agreement. "It's almost like a competition between the two. I don't know who is going to be the star and the other a sidekick."

My father-in-law hooted. "Oh, that's a good question! I think Shannon will have Hawkeye running for his money. For now, let's see if he can figure out how to dress her."

"I think he'd do a better job than I would. So far, Shannon is reaching out to him more than me. I hardly have the experience."

"Well, _I_ think you're being too hard on yourself, Jeanie. Shannon will come around and she knows who you are. Didn't you have any sisters?"

"Brothers," I corrected him. "I'm the youngest and an only girl."

Daniel was surprised, shocked into silence for a moment. "Well, then, you would have had to escape their cruel jokes somewhere."

"I did, but I also had my revenge too. I didn't pursue any traditional feminine activities though. I never liked dolls and playing house. My mother only forced me and even then, I wasn't too good at it. I have basic skills. My best ones are nursing and drinking."

I didn't mean to be so candid with Daniel. He was surprised that I opened up so much to him and waved his hand to encourage me to continue. I refused to, believing that I would give him a heart attack, and allowed the silence to remain between us. Afterward, he commented here and there about the noise upstairs and what a good time the two were having. I conceded and chose not speak out of turn, sticking with topics that were neutral in nature. After twenty minutes of this, Daniel asked me what Hawkeye had been upset about this morning.

"He refused to tell me anything," he offered sadly. "Keeps telling me that I wouldn't understand him."

"You might not," I responded gingerly, "and might never will. In some ways, there's a miscommunication between us too. Hawkeye and I saw the same things daily, but also had our own adventures. We dealt with them in our own way, mostly by bottling them or using humor to get through the ordeals."

"Did he tell you what it was?"

"Yes, he did. Again, this is one that he remembers more of than I do."

Daniel didn't press me further. We finished our breakfast simultaneously and gathered the rest of the dishes. While he insisted that I don't do anything, I felt that it was my obligation to assist him. I grabbed and wet a washcloth from the sink, utilizing it for the mess Shannon and Hawkeye left behind. I would have mopped the floor full of milk, but Daniel stopped me. He thought that using the materials I had was enough.

"Do you have plans for today?" He seemed worried about it.

"Right now, no," I admitted. Overhead, two pairs of feet stomped playfully. "I think taking a walk and exploring town would be a good idea. I want to get my bearings."

Daniel wrung his hands together. "I was afraid of this."

"Why, Daniel?" I was curious.

" _Dad_ ," he rectified. "You can call me Dad."

"Not yet." I wasn't ready to call my father-in-law something other than his first name. "You still didn't answer my question."

He thought about it for a moment, deciding to change his opinion otherwise by the way his demeanor changed. "Go explore. I'm sure you'll see what I mean soon enough."


	4. First Day of Activities

Within the hour, after I managed to gather Shannon and Hawkeye together in one spot and now moving faster than Superman, we decided on the walk. As I found out, Hawkeye was a professional in dressing our daughter and had perfectly arranged her undergarments and placed her in overalls and a sort of bib underneath. But we ourselves were ill-prepared for the trip. After we shed ourselves of our sleepwear, we were off. Hawkeye swung Shannon over and planted her on his shoulders, legs in the front. As he held onto her legs, I linked my arm around his and we were off.

I granted Hawkeye the title of leader. He opted to leave the beach for later, choosing the town as the best route. There was so much he wanted to drink in, thirsty from the three years spent in Korea. While our pathway was fraught with shifting sands and the occasional car whizzing by (each driver even gawked at us), the walk into Crabapple Cove's main hive was mainly filled with people coming up to us and stopping Hawkeye. All of them asked him how he was, how happy they were that he came home alive, and what their concerns had been, from family and friends to town politics. A few addressed me by name, inquired about our state of affairs, and moved on.

As the trek became longer than expected with all of the welcome home conversations, I began to realize with a sinking heart what Daniel was afraid of. This small, rural town was concerned about gossip and drama and I was the latest topic. With the war being over, they rejoiced that their hometown patriot returned and would hopefully rejoin the medical profession. At the same time, he brought in a foreign mixture – _me_. Shannon was a darling and cooed over, but as her mother, I was nothing more to them than a sideshow circus freak.

After yet another elderly couple passed us by and stared at me with nothing but contempt and morbid curiosity, I decided to keep my head high and to ignore them. Words could not hurt me anymore, I suppose, and the opinions of those who did not know me were nothing more than annoying. What mattered most was that I was loved by my husband and his family and that my daughter was safe with us. That was all.

After two hours of bearing this, we managed to get to the downtown area. From the house to there, it was a sandy road which turned into a main road, safe for pedestrians like us. Straight forward until then were houses and the occasional bar. Now, there were stores and wayfarers shouting their goods and costs. In the hot summer sun, the sweat glistened off of their skin, beads of it coloring the sidewalk in an exaggerated effort to attract attention about their hard work. Even the milkman was exhausted, hauling cartons of dairy into his truck and passing his counterparts with difficulty.

Hawkeye spoke with excitement, pointing out this place and that. He waved to some people, showing us off with pride, and moved on. Eventually though, he grew as tired as I was. The long walk from the house winded us, me more than him. I was wheezing, softly at first and then louder, to the point where I couldn't breathe well in the heat. Hawkeye directed us to a bench in the shade in front of a small movie theater and we sat. He detangled Shannon from his shoulders and placed her between us so she didn't run off. My daughter was impatient to get going again, swinging her legs in an effort to draw attention to her plight.

"Are you all right?" he asked. He wiped the sweat off his own face.

I held onto my chest. It was constricting. "I…I don't…I don't…know."

"Maybe this was too much," Hawkeye mused. He was blaming himself. "Can you make it back?"

I nodded, smiling to show him that I wasn't too sick. "Hawkeye…Love….this…this was my fault. I…I…I should have…have…re-remained…home."

"No," he reassured me. "This was a good idea."

I was happy to hear that. I didn't regret the excursion, but I kicked myself for the amount of energy I spent coming this far. I thought I was physically stronger than I really was. While death always lingered nearby, my wish to now live was larger than that. For everyone's sake, I had to get better. Not being afraid to show myself, even in this state, was something I knew I had to do. I was going to live down those rumors, whatever people thought of me, and I will do this town proud.

"Benjamin Franklin Pierce, as I live and breathe," a lone voice said to the right of us. When we turned to it, we noted an elderly woman and a young teenaged boy next to her.

"Ahh, Mrs. Pettigrew," Hawkeye greeted warmly. He smiled his most convincing one. "I don't think you've been introduced. This is my wife –"

"Jeanette Morrison," Mrs. Pettigrew interrupted coldly. "Oh, I've heard enough about her, Benjamin, enough to make my blood boil."

Now, Hawkeye was usually one for outrage or jokes, whichever one the situation called for. This one was different. He used his charm and played stupid. "What do you mean?"

As if I wasn't there, she ranted above my head. "She's a bad influence, Benjamin, as you're aware. Horrible enough that I had to hear from your father about chasing Caryle and those others girls while you were in medical school. You brought home a whore who tricked you with a child."

The young teenager at Mrs. Pettigrew's side tugged at her dress. "Grandma, I can hardly understand how a woman could trick a man with a child."

"Hush, Larry!" Mrs. Pettigrew grew agitated with her grandson. She soon directed her attention back to Hawkeye, using her pointing finger to make her opinion come across. "Now, you listen here, Benjamin. If you know what's good for you, focus on being with those like you. Coming home from war is a horrible thing, I know, but a family should _not_ have come before that, especially from a woman with little means, unknown origins and questionable morals. Good day to you all!"

"Bye, Hawkeye," Larry called out as his grandmother dragged him away.

It was easy to see how conflicted Hawkeye was already. Initially excited about coming here, he now was rubbing his forehead in frustration. He was beating himself up for bothering to show his face in town. I felt the same way. The anxiety grew inside of me and my skin was crawling like insects settled on my body. The walls of Crabapple Cove slowly began to close in on us. We were trapped.

"Let's get out of here," Hawkeye suggested. The nightmare broke away.

I couldn't agree more. Rushing up, we positioned ourselves the same way going out, which disappointed Shannon greatly. Within a half hour, we were in the driveway. Hawkeye released our daughter on the front porch. She ran inside and yelled for Daniel to come out. We settled on the front stairs. Hawkeye was talking about something, I couldn't hear what. My ears were filled with blood, beating louder than a drum. My chest felt so tight that I couldn't breathe. I was going to pass out.

The next thing I remembered, I was standing in the kitchen. Hawkeye was holding me up straight and coaching me to inhale and exhale slowly. When he realized that I was aware of my surroundings and was finally obeying him, he let me go, albeit unwillingly. He guided me to a chair nearby and called out to Daniel in the dining room that I was fine. My father-in-law entered, his face the epitome of worry. Shannon was right behind him.

"Asthma?" he asked me.

"No." I shook my head. "It's a…l-l-long story."

Daniel was visibly relieved. "I take it your walk didn't end well?"

"Well, you see, there was this treasure-hoarding dragon," Hawkeye started sarcastically.

"Oh, no. She didn't." Daniel wasn't too happy about the mention of Mrs. Pettigrew.

"She's out of control," Hawkeye complained. He was on his soapbox now. "I don't know what you see in her, Dad. She insulted my wife and my daughter and without blinking an eyelash. She dared to dictate to me how to spend my first civilian days at home. She's a menace, Dad, and without remorse."

Daniel had to stew on the information for a minute. Without realizing it, I was spotting some things that Hawkeye wasn't picking up on because he was sitting on such a high horse. One was that Daniel was hurt more than he let on about what Mrs. Pettigrew was saying and that he could not reach Hawkeye to tell him something. Another was that he had a story he wanted to tell us, but something or someone was making him keep it a secret. The other was that there was going to be no way for Hawkeye to get past this. Love would plot his revenge and make it short and sweet for that old woman.

"Why…why…don't we sit outside?" I interjected before the two broke out into an argument.

"A good idea," Daniel replied. "It's about time Shannon went out to the beach anyway."

I was relieved to have this blow over. Hawkeye wasn't too happy to have his podium taken away from him, but even he agreed that it was time to escape to the sand and water. Daniel took Shannon upstairs to change her into a bathing suit while Hawkeye went to the living room to grab a blanket and large umbrella from the closet. They both returned at the same time. Daniel held Shannon tightly and Hawkeye escorted me past the backyard and onto the sands.

Inchon was the first time I truly experienced a proper strand. In Bloomington, there had been lakes with what they called a shoreline. This was different. Underneath my bare feet, I felt the crunching course up and through my skin. It was rough and hurt a little, much like its Korean counterpart, but it was relaxing. We continued towards the coastline and stopped. Close to the waves, Hawkeye set up our spot and Daniel let Shannon loose. With glee, she ran towards the water and allowed it to wash over her.

Inside, I was in hysterics, even though she was giggling and spitting out the salty taste. Panicking, I stood up and was about to run after my daughter, thinking that she was drowning, but Daniel stopped me and tried keeping me from rescuing when there might be a need. Shannon saw this too and stopped her playing, believing that she was in the wrong. Right where the water met the land, she cried loudly.

"Hawkeye, hold her back," Daniel ordered sharply as he attended to my daughter. He kneeled before her and held her, whispering something in her ear.

My focus was elsewhere though. Hawkeye sharply turned my attention to him. "If Dad knew that there was danger, would he allow Shannon to go?"

"No," I automatically responded. I knew this was true.

"Why are you so upset then? You can't fall apart. Dad has her under control."

I didn't have an answer. My heart was beating pretty fast and the panic from earlier came back. I was so anxious about everything, from being the new kid on the block to being perfect for my family, that I wasn't thinking of the consequences. Being a housewife and a mother was many things and one of them was keeping your feelings under lock and key. I was not good at controlling my emotions and always reacted without thinking (except when I was with the patients and even then, all of us were guilty). My mother called it acting in shame. To me, it was impulsive.

Without a verbal clue, Hawkeye only had to look into my eyes to understand. He let me go as soon as his Dad reassured Shannon that all was well and that she was behaving. It came natural to my father-in-law, patting that innocent face dry of tears and kissing a forehead. Shannon was excited once more and back to playing, sitting on the edge and digging with her fingers. Daniel joined her for a few minutes, encouraging her to build another sandcastle, and returned to us when his work was finished.

"You all right?" he asked me when he sat down.

I nodded. "I think so."

"You need to trust her," Daniel continued. "Your daughter is smarter than you think."

"Everybody's told me."

"I don't believe you truly understand, Jeanie. Shannon has a deep connection somewhere. If I had to describe it, she's an adult in a child's body."

Even Hawkeye was confused. "What do you mean?"

"Shannon's intelligent of her surroundings, but she keeps it to herself." Daniel shook his head. "This, for instance. She saw that Jeanie was upset and reacted the only way a child should. In her mind, she's calculating and strategizing."

Hawkeye was not convinced. "How do you know?"

"You'll see," his Dad replied, a smile painted on his face. "This isn't something one can describe. This is something you need to see for yourself."

That ended the conversation. From there, our eyes were focused on Shannon. Indeed, she started a building project and was soon making her sandcastles (although they were similar in shape to lumpy pyramids and were washed away often). She did bore of it eventually and was running to and fro with wild abandonment. Hawkeye joined her, laughing as he chased her around and once more pretending to be the ogre to our daughter's princess role. Daniel thought this amusing and chuckled. From his side, he produced a camera and snapped some pictures when they were still.

He finished transplanting the memories to paper and put the camera aside. The two had become rowdy and were running pretty far, towards the neighbors, leaving us alone. For a few minutes, we watched them until Daniel called them back. It was lunchtime and Shannon's schedule dictated that she eat before indulging in quieter pursuits, mostly coloring or napping, depending on her mood. Mostly, Daniel liked her to sleep for a few hours.

 _That_ was also an affair. Lunch wasn't Shannon's favorite time. She knew that afterward, she would have to march to her room and miss out on all of the exciting activities that we adults were going to indulge in. We packed everything away and walked back to the house. Daniel immediately took Shannon upstairs, to dry her and dress her in more comfortable clothing, and brought her to the living room so that we had some time with her. Hawkeye had enough and opted to leave me with our daughter. This seemed a little off to me, since he was enjoying himself immensely with her, but I took it for what it was. Shannon was already encouraged me to color with her, scribbling on all sorts of white pages with me until Daniel called her to the table for her meal.

Watching her eat her sandwich at the dining room table was a sore sight. If any of my parents saw me in that position, they would have snapped at me to look alive or would have slapped me in the face and yelled at me to quit moping. However, I was hoping to raise my daughter in a gentler manner, stewing on this and mulling over situations as I too ate my food. Daniel was already doing a wonderful job. It was just difficult to emulate it and come up with my own methods.

After twenty minutes of procrastinating (which reminded me so much of Hawkeye), Shannon walked herself upstairs. We followed her to her bedroom, each taking a turn to kiss her on the forehead. Again, the ritual from the night before was repeated, with curtains drawn and door shut so that she rested in a calm environment. Only this time, as Daniel closed it, he mentioned that he had some business in town and would return in a few hours.

"What kind of business?" Hawkeye asked. His ears perked up in interest.

Daniel waved his hand. "Nothing you should concern yourself with. It's only a meeting."

"With who?"

"You'll find out later. Now, did I tell you some chores needed to be done?"

Daniel went down a list of household tasks that needed completion. We listened to them in rapt attention, feeling like children ourselves as it grew larger. I knew that Daniel was reminding me of what laid ahead and only assigned me light work, like washing the breakfast and lunch dishes and sweeping and vacuuming. Hawkeye, on the other hand, was assigned cleaning out the examination rooms. Daniel felt that old material was in there and needed an extra eye to double-check on a few things.

After reassuring him that all would be well on our own, Daniel left, muttering under his breath about leaving us alone to party. As soon as the Packard left the driveway and disappeared down the road though, we were in a mad rush to get everything done in a frenzied fashion. Within half an hour, when the last bowls were left to dry on the rack and the floors had been cleaned, Hawkeye tagged me in the dining room. Taking my hand, he led me upstairs, locking our bedroom door behind him.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" I rasped.

Already, Hawkeye was stuffing pillows behind the headboard and tossing me on the bed. He pinned me down, torturing me by stripping every article of clothing on me and playing every trick he could pull on me until I was begging for mercy. By then, he too had his clothing off. Even before we decided on a few minutes of peace and quiet, we listened to Shannon. She wasn't making a noise, sleeping at long last.

This was now our time alone. "Let the games begin," Hawkeye said with a smile.


	5. Anxieties and Wonders

For the next four days, everything settled down slightly. Little by little, Daniel would escape back to the clinic in Belfast and leave us alone for longer periods of time. He would then come home to either some surprising, startling or exacerbating situations, depending on what happened the night before and what conspired during the day. Most times, we would be tired since those nights we spent drinking (and trust me, one night we were pretty drunk on the beach and almost gave the neighbors a show) or were starving away another nightmare. Other times, we would be positive and clean the house to keep our minds off of Korea.

The best things were always the smallest though. Shannon kept us busy and led us by the hand. Daniel had been right. She _was_ extremely intelligent and also empathetic too and showed it in many ways, most of it towards us. Hawkeye was the most affected by Korea, more so than I was, and sometimes would lock himself in our bedroom for hours, sleeping off some booze he drank after breakfast without thinking. Our daughter would sneak in and cuddle with him, easing the glass container out of his hands and setting it to one side.

There were some things I thought a nearly two-year-old should not handle and that was one of them. I didn't want Shannon to see us so distressed and wanted to be her pillar. Instead, I found her to be ours and without complaint or being upset. It was a strength I never knew she had and one forged under fire, a flame she was born with. She had been through so much in her short life and to start over with these overwhelming emotions when she had finally found true family love was enough to make me cry.

I kept her busy otherwise, using my father-in-law's schedule to draw her away from our wobbly state of mind. In the mornings, we always had breakfast together before Daniel departed for his part time position at the clinic. Sometimes, between eight and ten, Hawkeye and I (mostly him) saw sick families on the porch, knocking on the door and asking for help. Then, with just me and Shannon, there were short walks, playing on the beach, meals and snacks, naps together, coloring and more. I lost count of how many activities my daughter indulged in.

But the crowds running to take a peek and make excuses about illnesses was the biggest nuisance of all. All of this rush in so short of a time was making my unease worse and I would sometimes hide until they were all gone, making Hawkeye handle each situation and forcing _his_ anxiety to worsen. It was crushing to deal with them all at once. However, even he could not take it for much longer before bowing to the pressure too. All of the work soon pushed Hawkeye back into a bottle's loving arms. By our fifth day home, I had to put a sign on the door, referring everyone to the clinic until further notice.

That particular day was torture. By then, I had decided that trips into town would be my sole responsibility since I had to get used to my new role. Besides that, Hawkeye was sleeping off another after breakfast binge and I didn't want Shannon to help him this round. Besides, some shopping needed to be completed and I wished to explore on my own without a guide and people flocking to Hawkeye's side. I chose to have her as my company on the walk instead of allowing Hawkeye the chance to babysit while drunk.

Love had disappeared upstairs after our morning meal and Daniel's departure. My father-in-law said nothing and only muttered about immaturity and the house being burnt on his way out the door. Worried, I sought to ensure Hawkeye's wellbeing before my own adventure. Luckily, I found him sleeping in our bedroom. I left a towel and bucket on the floor in case he threw up. Granted, I had been the one cleaning him in Korea. This would be no different, I suppose, but at least there was something he could utilize while I was away.

With some faith in my abilities as a mother and a wife (even I was pushing that assessment), I dressed Shannon myself and took her by the hand. From there, we hiked the few miles into the downtown district of Crabapple Cove. I chose a store and placed my daughter in the cart. As she scanned the aisles full of gossiping people and grocers stocking their goods, I picked up certain items, all the while feeling the crowds closing in on us. I made it a quick trip, with only three bags and a child to carry home, and was soon out the door before anyone could stop me.

As soon as I got Shannon on pace with me, I heard a voice behind me. "Mrs. Pierce! Mrs. Pierce!"

I was so unaccustomed to someone calling me that that I almost didn't turn around. The persistence prevailed and I acknowledged my addresser – Larry. He ran up to me, huffing and puffing like he had been racing to catch up to me for miles. He leaned against his knees, coughing and refusing my help. He waved away my concerns too, talking so fast that I had to ask him several times to repeat himself.

"I wanted to know if you needed me to carry your bags." Larry pointed to the paper packages I was balancing in one arm. "I can walk Shannon too."

"Oh." I was flattered. "Wouldn't your grandmother mind?"

"She can't punish me for being a good Christian," he pointed out. "Grandma taught me to help those less fortunate than I am. You look plum tired, Mrs. Pierce…no offence."

"None taken." I was beginning to like this kid. He radiated a kindness that Daniel also held. "Yes. I would appreciate you carrying the food."

Larry beamed. He gently took the papered grocery shelters and followed me home. He chatted at me all the while without coming up for some air, talking to me about school, some girl he liked and playing music. His grandmother disapproved of him and his friends playing songs, he added, and he wished that she would see how much he enjoyed it. And the girl he liked was shy enough that she wouldn't talk to him.

"What do you think I should do?" Larry finally asked me as we approached our road and grew closer to our respective homes.

"About what – love, your grandmother or the music?" I was confused. It was difficult enough to get the basic gist of the conversation anyway, but worse when I tried controlling my daughter too. "I think all of your problems are connected to one person, from what I understand. What do your parents think?"

Larry grew very quiet. "They're dead. They died in the last epidemic, when I was seven. Grandma is the only person I have."

My heart sank sadly. I wasn't embarrassed that I wrung a confession out of a teenager I hardly knew. I was upset that people here like this young kid had lost relatives to a disease that had no known cure. Hawkeye did not mention to me that there was another after his mother and sister perished. He hardly mentioned the grief that prevailed in this town anyway, choosing to focus on the positive attributes that glued him here.

"I'm sorry," I said in the same tone. "I lost my twin brother to the war. I know what it feels like."

"He must have been blown up or shot at," Larry replied without thinking. He paused when he saw me wincing. "It was horrible, those pictures and the news. Grandma told me there was nothing worse than a war."

"No, there isn't. There's tragedy everywhere you see. You had to take the goodness when you could."

"Did you? I mean, it sounds like you and Hawkeye had a grand time."

"We had each other. That was all that mattered. And you have to do that as well. Hold onto that person who is supporting you. If your grandmother is the last person you have, cherish her. You might be the same anchor for her."

I hated saying those words. I had no right to. Mrs. Pettigrew was nasty to us and sought to discredit what dignity we had. However, this was Larry's grandmother. I swore to never speak ill of her. It was never right to bring in an adult's problems with a child, no matter how old they were. Learning that firsthand when I was dealing with my own parents and stepfather had been what strengthened my resolve.

Larry sighed though, visibly upset that I said something contrary to what maybe others had told him. He might have been used to complaining about Mrs. Pettigrew to everyone. "Mrs. Pierce, didn't you have a relative that was supposed to take care of you and took advantage of you? Didn't they make you feel useless and like you're the dirt they walked on?"

"Yes," I confirmed. "But my choice had been to run away. I still did. There is no point in wasting time with toxic people. But you also need to choose what is most important to you, not for me. That's the best advice I can give."

Larry nodded respectfully. It seemed like he had lost it for me though. His face hid the disappointment. At the same time, I could see through the façade like a spy catching inner emotions from a contact. He was young, I chided myself, and expected me to be more sympathetic. He'll learn how harsh it is in the world and eventually have the same outlook as we do. I only hoped he would never have to experience war.

We had reached my stop at last. Larry was unsure of what to do, so I waved him ahead to put the bags inside. "Just place them at the door," I instructed. "I can take it from there."

The trek had caught up to me. I was having difficulty breathing. Smiling to conceal it and thanking Larry all the same, I strode up the porch stairs slowly and escorted Shannon inside. Immediately, she went to the living room table, where her beloved colored world awaited her. She picked up her crayons and scribbled on the white paper Daniel left her. Kissing her on the head as I passed, I beelined for the kitchen.

I felt as if I was drowning. My chest felt so constricted, pushing me underwater more and more as I struggled to come to the surface's safety. I leaned against a counter and hardly heard myself make strangling noises for help. Almost immediately from behind, I felt Hawkeye straighten me out and lead me outside. He steadied me against the wall for some minutes before my breathing was normal.

He was upset with me. The overwhelming aura of drunkenness did not assist in matters much either. "Why did you leave?" he demanded.

"I have to get used to this," I pointed out. I sat down on the bench, shaking. "Hawkeye, you can't protect me forever. I've faced worse than town gossip. It's annoying, but I think they'll eventually shut up."

"What happens when I'm not there to protect you?" Hawkeye droned on like I had not said anything. "You carry a huge responsibility when you go out there. Now, you're a fish out of the water. Then what? You collapse and Shannon does _what_?"

"I've held myself up fine until she was out of sight," I replied hotly. "I've been able to take care of myself."

"And what next? Kill yourself?"

"Hawkeye, I can't sulk around forever. I need to do something to keep me busy. I need to _feel_ like I'm a normal person again."

"But we aren't normal people, damn you!"

And that was when I saw the hand rise. My usual childhood reaction was to flinch, but I was no longer the girl who stood in the driveway with my drunken parents. Quickly, I stilled it, slamming Hawkeye against the wall faster than a soldier with a gun in the soggy trenches. He struggled, slurring his words less and less as he demanded his liberation and that he meant no harm to me. My fingers wrapped themselves tighter against his wrist the more he wormed his way out.

"How dare you?" I hissed. "How _dare_ you, Hawkeye? I understand how difficult it is. We all have to cope. This is a new experience for all of us. But don't _ever_ raise your hand like that again. I know you didn't do it to hit me. You're not that kind of man. But some things have to be handled away from prying eyes. You might not be lucky next time."

Hawkeye understood and ceased. When he was calm, I released him and pivoted on my heel. Clenching my chest and smiling to hide the pain, I headed back inside. Upon entry, I saw my daughter standing in the kitchen. She appeared lost, her eyes begging me for something…but _what_? I couldn't tell. I was so worried that she saw the exchange between me and Hawkeye. Pity and regret churned in me all the same, recalling how bitter I was to be an unwilling participant in my parents' divorce and custody battles.

I kneeled before Shannon and hugged her. "What's the matter, baby?"

"Hungry," she answered. "Mommy, I'm hungry."

I was relieved. "Oh, is it lunchtime already?" I checked a clock on the wall. "It is! Let's find some food."

I had forgotten about the bags Larry left at the door and raced to get them. Fortunately, nothing spoiled. I managed them one at a time, bringing them to the kitchen and storing them in their appropriate place. Shannon watched me carefully, remaining in a corner until I was finished. Then, she wanted to help me with the food preparation. I grabbed a chair for her, so she could be about the same height I was, and we made her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

It was an enjoyable experience. Shannon was giggling hysterically as we made noises when layers were spread and pieces combined. Her little hands felt unsteady under mine though, depending on my fingers to hold firm as each side was given an equal portion. I cut the bread into fourths and brought it to the dining room. Shannon hopped off of the chair and followed me, finding her seat and eating with gusto.

This left one more child to tend to. I checked the back door and saw Hawkeye silently languishing. He was on the back porch, remorseful over his past actions and sobering up. I joined him on the bench, allowing the swaying to calm us both. I took his hand into mine and curled closer, my head against his shoulder. I didn't mind the scotch smell still. Oddly enough, that was a comfort, familiar ground that I reached for easily enough. However, it wasn't right. We were supposed to get past this drunken behavior and act like civilians.

 _But it's going to be harder._

That thought will forever scared me. I realized both sides of the stance and wanted to slap myself. Yes, Hawkeye and I were expected to act like our lives had not been interrupted by the war. At the same time, nobody understood the deep scars that had been left behind. Three years in Korea had been one endless bloodbath after another and all of it had us in tears about being away from the action and someplace where we belonged. Our situation was unique in every way.

"I'm sorry." Hawkeye's voice was so quiet that I almost didn't hear him.

"What are you sorry for?" I asked. I wasn't surprised, but I was touched. "This is something you can't control yet."

"You're better at it than I am," he pointed out. "How can you take this so easily?"

"It's not," I confessed. "Remember, I was dancing out there with you the other night?" I indicated the beach before us. "I feel like I'm still in an in-between stage. My body is here in Maine, but my mind is in Korea."

Hawkeye nodded. "What do we do?"

"The best we can," I said weakly. It was a dumb thing to say. "Look, I don't think that we're ever going to recover from Korea. It might fade with time and linger on occasion, but we're still going to see the same kids coming into the OR. I – _we_ – cannot focus on it. I think your Dad will understand that it'll take us time to be ourselves, but we have someone else in that house who is depending on us to be there for her. I don't know about you, but that little girl is one of the reasons why I am going to try like hell to get over my past."

Hawkeye stood up suddenly, taking me with him. He was trembling. "Shannon is wonderful, isn't she?"

"Shannon is a wonder everyday," I confirmed. "I learned something new from her, _about_ her, that I didn't think was possible."

Taking a deep breath, Hawkeye transformed from the sad, drunk man to a calm, mature father. He led me back inside and shooed me to the dining room. He then expressed an interest in making _me_ lunch. While Shannon finished up, she snuck into the kitchen and stood in the doorway as Hawkeye concentrated. Like a mad professor, he rushed about in a haphazard way, thought out loud irrationally and even pulled at his black and white hair, pretending that he was frustrated by the task he must finish.

Shannon was in stitches. She laughed to see her father so frazzled. She joined him, copying Hawkeye's every move. She went as far as pretending to serve me as he gave me my lunch. I thanked them both, kissing the five o'clock shadow and the smooth cheeks, and waited until Hawkeye sat with his food before eating. Shannon climbed into her seat and observed, interjecting with a word here and there about nonsensical kingdoms and being rescued from the tower.

The rest of the day was peaceful, although we worried when Daniel did not call or come home at his usual hour and the clinic was closed. He came home later than expected, claiming at the door that there was an emergency in Portland and that it was all hands on deck. He found us all in the living room after his apology, the picture of perfection. We settled on the couch. Hawkeye and I were managing a game of chess (I was rusty and he missed playing with BJ) and Shannon was eying our competition or tidying up her dolls.

Daniel shed his jacket and hung it in the closet. He narrowed his eyes. "What have you all been up to today?" He was suspicious in his own way that we caused trouble and he would have to make amends.

"I went to the grocery store with Shannon," I volunteered. I moved my pawn forward. "Dinner is in the refrigerator if you're hungry."

" _Alone_?" Daniel was aghast, ignoring my other comment. It made Hawkeye's earlier rage pale in comparison.

"Yes," I replied as Hawkeye blocked my piece from progressing. "It was a short trip. Larry helped me carry the food home."

Daniel stood still for a moment. He wasn't sure what to do or say. His mouth moved in a way that resembled Hawkeye's shock, checking himself when he realized that he was speechless. He soon resumed his usual stance, hands behind his back as he approached slowly and observed our dynamo in action. We were all content and Shannon was not complaining or crying. This pleased him.

"I will be driving back to Portland in the morning," Daniel announced. "I don't know when or how long I'll be there. Will you all be ok if I wasn't here overnight?"

"Yes," Hawkeye responded, almost like a child. He captured my knight. "Do you need me to come?"

"No, no." Daniel wasn't going to have Hawkeye underfoot when Korea was less than a month ago. "The hospital has all the help they require now."

"Do you need me to pack you an overnight bag?" I tried trapping Hawkeye's queen, but he soon placed my king in check.

My father-in-law gave me the same negative answer and bid us both a good night. He disappeared upstairs as Hawkeye won the round and challenged me to another. I yawned, pointing to the clock in the kitchen. It was almost Shannon's bedtime and I was tired after a long day and all without residents at the door. Routine called and our daughter was bathed and in bed faster than a speeding bullet.

Hawkeye wanted to read her a bedtime story and almost pulled out his smut from his footlocker in our bedroom. I stopped him before the literature entered our daughter's domain, reminding him that she understood English and that this was inappropriate material for the night. Hawkeye pouted, but he put the slim volume to one side and instead brought out a children's tale titled _Goodnight Moon_. I had not heard of it before, but a quick peek at the pictures told me that it was better than a piano hitting someone and the floor smothering them afterward.

As Shannon's eyelashes fluttered and eventually drooped, I listened in the doorway as Hawkeye's voice rose with the climax and quieted with the conclusion. He whispered the last lines, a reminder of the sweet purity our daughter held as the day ended and night begged for her to rest and begin anew in the morning.

 _Goodnight stars, goodnight air.  
Goodnight noises everywhere._


	6. One's Own Heaven and Hell

I groaned, rolling over in bed and arousing myself to a wakened state when the alternative forced me to seek sanctuary from it. For a moment, I thought I was back in Korea until I smelled the sea from a nearby window and consoled myself. I couldn't tell what time it was. The darkness of night shrouded my old alarm clock enough that I couldn't see, indicating that it was before dawn. However, it was obvious that I had a few hours of sleep and all of it evolved around envisaging of Korea.

Hawkeye was still slumbering, laying on his left side and mumbling about something. I couldn't hear what it was since the words were jumbled together and senseless. Shaking my head, I rubbed my eyes to get the crusty material out of the corners and sighed. There was no way I was going to be able to crawl back under the covers and feel safe in my dreams for the remainder of the night. The day was not yet born. I was going to herald it in.

Grabbing my kimono, I wrapped myself in the silky fabric and snuck to the hallway. I first checked on Shannon in the next room and found her breathing. Her blanket was askew and she was in a half-kneeling, half-laying down position, sucking her thumb. I thought of looking in on my father-in-law, but held back. There was something about Daniel I had to learn and treating him like a child was not the way to go about it.

Shivering in the early morning chill, I headed downstairs and settled in the kitchen. The sun was beginning to hint its appearance with its orange and yellow lines in the purple sky. It meant that there was time to be alone and to have some coffee before the brood joined me. I gathered the ingredients and drew a flame from the stove, waiting for the material to change. All the while, I watched the end of the night, thinking back to why I was up so early.

Yes, it was that faraway Asian country again, only Korea, that kept me awake. That much was certain. However, what happened in my mind was another story. I wanted to confront it, to live again those moments in which we all feared and wished we did not have to experience, and did not find the courage inside of me to search for it. The memories were so far away that I could not reach them in time to cast them away.

Just as the brewing was completed, I heard some creaking and light footsteps overheard. They followed a straight pathway down the hallway and stairs. The tall shadow that greeted me was surprised to see me up so early. I pulled two mugs from the cabinet and handed the first cup to my visitor, Daniel. He thanked me profusely and reached for the sugar container and a nearby spoon. I reached into the refrigerator for the creamer.

We both made our coffee more tasteful before talking. Daniel did not inquire about why I was awake before he was. From the past few nights, he got the whole picture of our lives in Korea and did not pry. However, he did introduce me to some new chores that required my attention, such as cleaning the random garbage on our end of the beach, dusting some of the pictures and antiques upstairs and the laundry schedule. It had been almost a week since our arrival and I already was finalizing the week's humdrum before beginning anew.

"What happened yesterday?" he then asked. "It seemed too peaceful."

"I told you, I went shopping and Larry helped me," I insisted. "Shannon and I made lunch and Hawkeye stumbled downstairs."

Daniel absentmindedly stirred his cup. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," I automatically replied.

"Mrs. Pettigrew said that she saw Hawkeye raise his hand." Daniel didn't look up from his coffee, leaning against the counter as he sipped. "What was that about?"

"Hawkeye was defensive." I wasn't going to lie. My response was over the top. "I wasn't thinking and overreacted. He was angry about me leaving the house without him."

"I see."

The quiet tone of those words almost blew me away. Here was this man, who had spent three years gnawing on his fingernails and hoping to hell that his son came home alive, calmly telling me that he understood what had conspired. It was maddening. _No_ , Daniel did not comprehend the situation. Yes, it was easy to see his son drunk over the images he wished his mind could erase. Thiswas something totally different.

And that was what I could not explain either. This new setting was something we sought, but it also was deeply misunderstanding in its assessment of us. I was sure that Mrs. Pettigrew was being the nosy neighbor she was and thought that Hawkeye was going to beat me. My husband was never that type of man. Sure, he's held his own against people in Korea, but was never to instigate for no reason, not even when he was drunk.

 _But this is a civilian life, Jeanie. He might react the opposite way._

My heart sought to correct that thought since it was wrong. Hawkeye gave no indication that he was an abusive man whatsoever and his attitude reflected it. He was indignant and defensive when it came to my father and worse when it came to Frank Burns. He wasn't one to use the influence of a substance in order to have control either and I would have seen it a mile away. I also would have walked away from the relationship if he resembled my father in any way.

"Being away from home was overwhelming," I defended weakly. "Being back is worse. We all wished it. The reality seems totally…difficult to accept."

Daniel nodded, sighing. "Hawkeye was always so happy-go-lucky until…well, until my wife and daughter died. It was just the two of us afterward. He was never the same. He went away to Boston and held a series of unsuccessful positions and relationship until he came home. He drank heavily. Then, there was the war –"

My father-in-law broke off for a moment to compose himself. The idea that his grown child now faced a long recovery his early adult years, especially Korea, was unfathomable. I was sure Daniel knew the extent of our sorrows and victories while overseas. Shannon had been the brightest spot of anyone's life, ours included, and that also had been our fall. Friends had left for home or died and we drank to them too. Life continued without us and the family who had been left to pick up the pieces also struggled as we did to find a footing.

For a brief minute, I saw that in Daniel. The three years he spent alone and in anguish was catching up to him. He couldn't just put it aside like we were trying to do with the war. He was slowly trying to recover from the days of uncertainty. Having his own granddaughter safely with him was a reminder that life had continued and that it would never die, even in our absence. There was something he could hold onto and it wasn't the black and white pictures of the past that whispered of hazy and comforting memories.

"I am glad that Hawkeye has you, Jeanie," Daniel began again. He looked at me sadly. "I sensed that something out of ordinary was wrong with you, but there was a spark that always shone. I can't tell you this enough, Jeanie, but you _are_ stronger than you feel. Have the courage to use it."

Face-to-face with this man, I still was touched by his words and repeated my aspirations. "I hope I can live up to your expectations."

"You already did." He kissed my forehead. "Thank you for the coffee. I'll call if I am staying in Portland overnight."

Daniel put his empty cup in the sink and left. When I heard the car start and its rumbling recede down the road, I really felt alone. The house remained with sleepy inhabitants and its creaking the only noises informing me that all was alive. Feeling like a pea rattling in a pod, I mentally went over the chore list Daniel informed me of and busied myself. Gulping the last of my coffee, I went outside with a garbage bag and kicked around the sand for the garbage he mentioned before heading back indoors.

The wind whipped around my hair as I worked, enough that I tied it with a rubber band I found on the porch railing. I did not realize how much people had dumped on the grounds, cursing it all the same. Although the shoreline was considered public grounds in some ways, this was still technically each person's property to a certain point. It was annoying that a bunch of kids (and maybe some adults) would trash a place like this. I filled my sack and had to go inside for another before I managed to reach Mrs. Pettigrew's side.

An hour later, I was finished. I brought my findings to the front and deposited them into the garbage can. By then, I heard some noises upstairs. I could not tell who was up yet since it was pretty muffled. When I snuck into the kitchen, the noises were clearer. Some loud swearing told me that it was Hawkeye. He stomped out of our bedroom and rushed downstairs practically naked, sporting only his green underwear. He stopped in the doorway when he noted me.

I removed another mug from the cabinet and filled it with coffee for him. "Anything the matter?" I handed him the first round.

"You – you – you –" Hawkeye stuttered as the cup shook and spilled at his feet. He wasn't angry, only incredulous.

"Hawkeye, it's a little undignified to be in your Army shorts with the neighbors," I pointed out. "It's also confusing to have you storming in here. What did I do to displease you?"

Love calmed down enough to hand me his elixir and disappear. He decided that it was best he changed in our bedroom before explaining his entry. When he returned, he was covered in his red bathrobe. Tucking the tie to one side, he regained his coffee and mixed in some sugar and creamer left out from earlier. After half of it had been downed, he sat down in the dining room. I followed him.

Hawkeye was pretty nervous for some reason. "Where did you go?"

"I was here the whole time." I was about to burst into laughter and held it together. "I went out to the beach to clean. Why?"

"I rolled over and you weren't there. What were you dreaming about?"

"Don't worry about it. It's over. Today is a new day. Do you have any plans?"

Hawkeye saw that I was changing the topic on purpose. He reached for my hand and held it tightly. "It was Korea, wasn't it?"

"Most likely." I wasn't going to admit specifics I could not recall. It was best not to focus on things I cannot control. "But that has nothing to do with the here and now. Right now, I am sitting with the most wonderful man I ever met and we're hopefully going to hear our daughter come running out of her bedroom and asking one of us to help her to get changed and get on the toilet."

"Is Dad still sleeping or did he leave for Portland?"

"He already left, maybe more an hour ago. He'll call if he's not coming tonight."

Already, it was back to business as usual. Hawkeye did not like it much and pouted, continuing his morning routine while he informed me in so many ways that I was not telling him what he wanted. While he insisted on getting to the root of the matter, I volleyed with all sorts of other subjects, ranging from our daughter to the household. I was not ready to talk about Korea this time, even if it was with the person who shared the prison sentence with me. There was so much more to keep me busy and being slowed down by something as trivial as a nightmare was never going to help us.

Eventually, Hawkeye quieted down and thought of other pursuits before Shannon woke up. As he finished up, he tiptoed upstairs and soon was tumbling down like a child on Christmas Day, rubbing his hands together in anticipation for something exciting and adult in nature. As I decided that the kitchen required more of my attention (namely the dishes), I felt Hawkeye hug me from behind and rub up against me. His fingers nimbly assisted in the scrubbing and rinsing, arbitrarily dropping them in the drainer as I straightened them out.

"Guess what?" He sounded pretty thrilled for one so early.

"What?" I was in no mood for the antics, already irritated about the water mess. Hawkeye had been a wonder, but he also spilled a puddle at our feet.

"Shannon is still sleeping," he reminded me as he kicked a towel below us. "We have a comfortable bed, a door with a lock and no parent looking in."

"I'm sure your Dad means well," I reminded him. Daniel had been turning the other way when it came to our sexual life, a relieving concept. "Hopefully, he won't be one of those parents asking for a houseful of children to spoil. Shannon has been enough."

Hawkeye cajoled me this way and that until I consented. My mind had been so absorbed on my tasks this past week that I forgot what it was like to be a woman with yearnings. In Korea, we had sought many ways to suppress our urgings so that we didn't publically strip and enact our desires in the compound. Mostly, it was finding a secured corner of the Supply Room, using the woods or waiting until the Swamp was empty. Now, it was a matter of time and energy.

Being careless and free had no place here. However, anything that resembled it was good enough for me. I followed Hawkeye upstairs, allowing him to lead me. This time though, since Shannon was due to be up any moment, we left the door slightly ajar. She had a habit of searching for us in our bedroom first when she woke up. Hearing her footsteps would be an indicator to stop and hide under the blankets before telling her to wait for us in her bedroom.

Although tense, it was a satisfying and uninterrupted hour. At the end, Hawkeye and I laid under the covers naked, holding onto each other. He continued to play with my breasts, twirling the nipples enough that I had to swat him to stop. He ceased that activity and decided to lay my head against his chest. It was comfortable and quite relaxing until he cleared his throat. Something serious was on his mind.

"Do you want any more children?" Hawkeye sounded pretty edgy.

"What?" I laughed hysterically. When I recovered, I was still spitting out a giggle or two. "No, not really. It happens, it happens. We have the ability to care for Shannon and any other children, if there are any. I am happy that we did not have a second round in Korea. I would not have been able to take it."

"I wouldn't either," Hawkeye conceded. He was relieved with my answer. "I'm also worried about you, Jeanie."

The unsaid words hung heavily over our heads. Hawkeye was indeed anxious over my health. BJ was right. Because of my early escapades, it never was steady. I pushed myself over limits I didn't need to and was lucky to be alive today. Having one child in a very stressful situation such as ours was something unique and quite the scare, especially after she left and I had nothing more than a dissented stomach and leaking breasts to show for it. Another pregnancy might break me physically or mentally or both. We did not want to take that risk.

The biggest problem was that Hawkeye and I were an amorous couple. Separating from each other was not going to work out well. Birth control was frowned down upon, although there were forms now available to us in markets outside of Crabapple Cove, and would not be of assistance anyway. For the time being, what would be our saving grace and damning hell is my stretchy gynecological history.

I kissed Hawkeye. "Don't be. I have the best doctor in Maine always looking out for me. I couldn't ask for more."

When we heard Shannon a few minutes later, Hawkeye volunteered to take care of her. Giving me one more kiss, he said that I needed to rest. He ordered me to remain in bed while he tended to her needs. After he left, when I managed to sit in a state of relaxation, I realized how tired and tense I was. In a span of about a week, I had arrived from Bloomington to a strange place similar to Oz, picked up on the new domiciliary schedule and met some neighbors and townsfolk who hardly cared to know me. It was enough to make me cry.

I held back the tears, listening instead of the duo close by. Hawkeye at become adept at transforming into a rational being for the most part, taking our daughter's lead as she drove him on a merry chase. Shannon had decided that she didn't wish to follow her usual routine and screamed with joy all the way downstairs. Hawkeye yelled after her as he ran, snorting as he attempted to keep from laughing.

Eventually, Hawkeye caught up with Shannon. I heard his hard breathing as he herded her into the bathroom and began her morning. Shannon named some dress she desired to wear. Hawkeye's pretend skeptical voice replied loudly, promising to create a princess out of a pauper the best way possible. His pathway from there to Shannon's bedroom and back indicated that he also feigned rummaging and indecisiveness too.

The pair were soon off for another adventure, beginning with a huge breakfast. Hawkeye promised me eggs whether I remained in bed or not. When he and Shannon decided what kind would be made, I got up and dressed myself. I felt useless resting in a comfortable spot when so much required my attention, especially that one room Daniel had given to me to utilize.

He said that it would be my very own and nobody will enter unless I gave permission. It was a room of me, where I could remember who I was before moving to Maine. Those words alone invigorated me. This too was a new beginning in its own way, an outlet for me to express myself without the watchful eyes of everyone else, but with old material that cannot be conjured ever again. Immediately, I found a picture of myself and Dean in my footlocker, both of close to eighteen and leaving Bloomington. On my vanity, I found the key to unlock it. I carried everything downstairs with me, close to my heart.

Without Hawkeye and Shannon peeking, I went inside my little room and turned on the light. Everything was as old and faded as the day Daniel showed me this surprise. I placed the picture on the desk, fondling it absentmindedly. It was so long ago, maybe two hundred years previously, when Dean and I rushed off into the unknown. I smiled to remember that day the photo was taken, but it was a painful reminder that my twin brother was no longer alive and settling down to a life of peace and quiet with his fiancée.

Determined, I pulled the curtains behind the desk down, allowing the sunshine in to fill the space and blind me. Yes, this was a new life, but also one without the natural blends of my last one. It was already proving to be hard, but I was worthy of this challenge. I had handled more than town gossip and the label of whore before.

Immediately, I began cleaning.


	7. Imagine All the Ways to Cope

_Imagine all the ways to cope.  
I close my eyes, it gives me hope.  
It cures the silence…_

 _Everyday I see you (see you).  
Everyday I need you (need you).  
Every way I breathe you (breathe you).  
On and on and on and on…  
On and on and on and on again (again)._

A month had passed in relative peace for us, even if our nightmares continued unabated. In that short span of time, a season had changed and the natural sequence of Crabapple Cove had also converted to its new role. Autumn had arrived and with it, harvests, festivals and the start of school. While Shannon was not yet old enough to be handed to the education system, it was a chore to pass groups of children everyday while walking to the store. It was also a nuisance to have to smile while social events forced us to participate.

That was what brought us to the first celebration after our return. While the final crop was less than a month away, Crabapple Cove had another reason to celebrate. Their biggest industry (other than gossip) was lobsters. Every September, just before the last of the food was processed and stored for the long winter, the fishermen (along with a ton of volunteers) held a sort of carnival on Labor Day weekend, with rides, games and more. They invited the whole community to participate.

Daniel urged us to go. While he was working part of the day anyway, he said he will find us. Hawkeye and I were hesitant. Ever since the initial trip out our first day home, we had not been seeking the public's eye. I went shopping once a week and already had to deal with people snubbing me. If they paid me any attention, it was to call me "Ms. Morrison" or they made snide comments under their breath about Shannon, naming her a bastard.

For Hawkeye, it was harder. Ever since we closed shop, he had been a nervous wreck. Sure, he was fine under everyone's watchful eyes. He was the same social creature. At the end of the day though, he was exhausted. In the privacy on our bedroom, he was would rant and rave, pull at his hair and pace countless steps for hours on end. He could not stand their scrutiny and their inquisitiveness. The questions about Korea maddened him worst of all, ranging from how many Communists he killed to what it was like to be camping in the great outdoors.

But we went along with it anyway, anxiously wringing our hands each day we drew closer to the appointed event. Hawkeye and I agreed that we would go for Shannon's sake. Daniel had gotten her excited about it and we could not say no to her after she chatted up a storm about all the things Grandpa promised her. I chalked it up to my father-in-law forcing us to stop being hermits. I was the only one people truly saw on occasion. Even the neighbors complained within my earshot that we were too quiet for our own good, Hawkeye most of all.

On the allotted Sunday, after services had finished at the local church, we waited until the crowds rushed over before heading out ourselves. Already, Daniel had taken the car to work and left us walking on that sunny early afternoon, Shannon on Hawkeye's shoulders and Hawkeye holding onto my hand. The festival was over by Eddie's Bar and Grill, a dubious place if there ever was one (it made Rosie's Bar clean in comparison). The acres of less than grassy fields surrounding it, nearby another part of the beach, hosted more than small rides and booths. It also had church groups congregating in their Sunday best, men drinking beer at the picnic tables, lobsters being boiled down at the shoreline and children chasing each other around barefoot.

Shannon bounced up and down as she drew in the energy from the other kids, causing Hawkeye to wince more than once. He stilled her with both of his hands, allowing me freedom to roam as I pleased. However, even I was struck by how many people had come together. I remained glued to Hawkeye's side, sticking with him as everyone's eyes slowly rolled over to us. Even the arrival of the star attraction, the owner of the bar and grill, was no better. The so-called church elders most of all snorted as he approached us with gusto.

"Dammit, Hawkeye!" Eddie yelled, clapping him on the shoulder. He narrowly missed Shannon's leg. "How have you been? It's been _ages_ , kid!"

Hawkeye grinned. He was halfway between agony and excitement, choosing to be his normal self. "Eddie Henderson! Hell, it's been, how long? Three years?"

The two chatted for a few minutes, exchanging more than drinking memories and women of their past. I studied the older man before us, taking Shannon into my arms as Hawkeye grew more animated than the children under ten. Eddie was maybe in his mid-sixties, but was more youthful than his age. With the boyish grin, streaks of brown still in his grey head and the spring in his step, he might as well have been a man in his forties and on the cusp of his new life as a man freed from his children. However, there was some sadness about him that I couldn't put my finger on.

It wasn't for me to pry. I had my own problems to contend with. At the same time, this man emulated such goodness that I trusted him, sans Hawkeye being so close to him. I shouldn't have since I just met him. There was no way to explain this feeling though. Eddie seemed a person of principle and strength, even if the more conservative crowd believed him to be nothing more than childish and his business a little more than a hovel by the side of the road.

Eventually, the two winded down and Hawkeye took a deep breath. "Eddie, let me introduce you to my wife. This is Jeanie."

I smiled. "Nice to meet you." I held out my hand.

Eddie was not one for handshakes. He took a quick look at me and immediately bear hugged me and Shannon into this large embrace. I let out a gasp, surprised that someone was be so brazen (especially in this town!), and returned it the best I could holding my daughter. Eddie didn't seem to care though, releasing and replying with the same sentiments.

"You're a lovely soul," he said to me, staring into my grey eyes. "I can see what these Pierce men see in you. You're so bewitching! I don't see what the fuss is all about with the others." His shoulder motioned to the tightly-knit groups nearby. "They seem to think that you're a bigger scandal than Hawkeye here."

"I don't know either," Hawkeye replied. He crossed his arms.

Eddie got quiet for a moment. "You all need to come into my establishment," he declared to all of us, pulling Hawkeye by the hand suddenly. "I've got the whole gang back there. Chuck, Jake and even Paulie are havin' a good time without the old biddies. Come on, Hawkeye. Come on!"

The way Eddie propositioned it, we didn't have much of a choice. The joy infused into him was welcoming and invited us to a good time. Following Hawkeye's lead, we waded through tall beach grass and sand to a building across the road. I smelled thick smoke in the air as we neared, reminding me of all the times we heard of this place being burnt to the ground, and almost recoiled in alarm and fear. However, it was nothing like that. The BBQ was running on full tilt.

Inside, Eddie waved over to three men inside, sitting on their respective bar stools at the counter. As we entered the murky place, Hawkeye named off all of them for my benefit, repeating the same motions he endured with Eddie. He also presented me and Shannon. What surprised me the most was that they too greeted me in the same manner as the bar owner. They all hugged me with the same intensity with my daughter in my arms, thought that everyone was overreacting and commented on how much good I was doing already.

I was confused. "What good? I just arrived here."

"Yeah, a month ago," Paulie mentioned, climbing up on his stool. He took a sip of beer. "You've caused quite the stir, Jeanie. This town needs a shaking once in a blue moon."

"And you married, what? Three months ago?" Chuck snorted. He directed the last bit at Hawkeye. "Hey, Hawkeye, how long have you known her? Before you were drafted into the Army?"

"Some time after that," Hawkeye dismissed. "Once upon a time, in a place called the Republic of Korea…"

"In an office headed by a colonel with no name," I added. I was getting warmed up.

"Well, it was good to be out of the artillery that day," Hawkeye continued.

"In a place like Uijongbu, you can hardly remember the place and name."

"There were also black holes that would give you no pain."

The last man, Jake, shook his head the way we went back and forth about our antics overseas in that vague manner. He didn't even give an indication that he was amused, unlike the others. Eddie, Paulie and Chuck were in hysterics, claiming that we were songwriters of our own right and should compete with the best of our age. Shannon was also pretty giggly, sucking up the free-spirited energy around her.

Seeing Jake's lack of participation as unnerving, to say the least. However, he too gave me no cause for concern though and that comforted me more than anything else. The atmosphere and the people in Eddie's Bar and grill were loving, judgment-free and sort of child friendly. I also felt some hesitation in staying here longer than necessary with Shannon and tempting myself with gin (even if Sidney had taught me moderation). I had to tell myself repeatedly to remain strong and to be sober until she was out of sight and hearing. I had to be a parent for her, not some woman who pretended not to have a care in the world.

Hawkeye saw my discomfort and excused us. Jake smiled at the farewell and said nothing to detain us, but the others were vocal in keeping us here. Eddie offered drinks on the house, but Love had to refuse. That took a lot of guts, I knew. For Hawkeye to walk out on drinking was a huge step in his recovery. Hell, I knew better than most people how much he drank in Korea. His tabs alone at the Officers' Club were horrendous and I was being kind. Add the still, some wine bottles I received and Rosie's, his liver was shot worse than the kids we saw in the OR.

"We'll make it a date night," Hawkeye promised, more to them than to me. He understood that I could care less. "No drinking on duty." He winked.

"I see." Eddie nodded evenly. He reached for Shannon and with my permission, took her from my arms without complaint from either of us. "Oh, come here to Uncle Eddie! How is Grandpa's little princess?"

Shannon giggled. "Good. I like playing with Daddy. He is a frog."

"Oh, really now? Who turned him into a frog?"

"The witch. Daddy says she lives nearby and makes bad things."

"He's not an ogre anymore?"

"No. Daddy doesn't stay that way for long. He has special powers. But the witch took them away. That's why he's a frog now."

And the game went on from there between the two before Shannon decided that I was her keeper. I honestly was not aware of the depth of my daughter's imagination and how much she disliked Mrs. Pettigrew (the witch in her story). I was glad that Hawkeye kept up a lot of the pretense, to keep the negative influences away from all of us, even if his methods were strange. Perhaps it was a way for him to cope as well? I was not sure, but could see the thick connections. Being an ogre, he was a monster without redemption and pained by the ugliness he physically held. Now a frog, he had a chance to be kissed and forgiven for his actions, to live a happily-ever-after story without having his past drag him down.

Eddie walked us out and stopped us just outside the door. "If you need anything, holler," he said. "We're not shy here, you two. There's a lot going on in your head and all of it not here."

"Thank you," I replied sincerely. It was a compassionate gesture.

Hawkeye echoed the same sentiments. "I wouldn't mind a night out. Besides, Jeanie here will drink you all under the table."

"Oh, is that right now?" Eddie was intensely fascinated in that fact. "We've got a couple of boys who will be interested in that."

"I outdrank the Marines a few times," I confessed. It wasn't one of my favorites (those guys were horrible), but it somehow gave me a sense of pride about the old me. "That was a challenge."

"I'm sure it was." Eddie waved us away. "Enjoy. There are lobsters coming up in an hour. I'm sure Shannon will love the treat."

Hawkeye and I promised to come back for the food. By then, something else had caught our daughter's attention. Some of the local church members had erected a small enclosed playground. All sorts of ages were caged, catching a bit of the sea air as they rushed back and forth between the swings, seesaw, slide and more. Shannon wiggled in my arms until I relented and released her inside the gate, even handing over a dollar for the church's donation bucket. Hawkeye took me by the hand and we walked around the other parents, finding a spot to watch Shannon. Our eyes collectively followed her, cajoling her here and there when she was stuck or crying.

All and all, it was pleasant to watch her. Other than acting like she should be the center of attention, I noticed that she was a natural flirt. All of the boys found her attractive too. A hive of them trailed Shannon's every step. Some of them reached to pull her braided black hair, startled when she whipped it around to the front and stuck her tongue out at them. Others, maybe five or six years old, told her that she was beautiful and tried pushing her around to do what they wished.

Shannon held her own for the most part. When she was preoccupied with taking turns on the slide, Hawkeye and I overheard some comments. These people were remarking how forward our daughter was and that she wasn't a typical little girl. One elderly woman defended us. I couldn't hear exact voices, but one of them was rude enough that I almost hit him.

"Well, what did you expect?" he asked, snickering. "Shannon Pierce is the child of a whore. Like mother, like daughter."

I clenches my fists. My tongue was poised with a poisonous and sarcastic response when Hawkeye stopped me. He took me around the circle, away from the vicious crowds, where we had a better view of Shannon. We continued to play it like we were proud parents cheering on our child. He kept urging me to remain focused on our daughter. She was already on the swings, I noticed, and wasn't going as high as she'd like. She was taller than most children around two, but her legs were awkward and did not work well. An older girl pushed her to aid her quest for height.

"He's not worth the aggravation just yet," Hawkeye mentioned quietly. "Save it for later. We've got the ability to extract our revenge later."

"Do you have a plan?" I asked in the same tone. I smelled a conspiracy and all of it built up from the past.

"You'll see," Hawkeye promised, winking. "That's Melvin Cochran, by the way. He's almost as good as Frank Burns except he actually has the gall to hound people literally to death."

"Is that who your Dad was talking about?"

"In the flesh. He works at the clinic with Dad in Belfast. Pay him no mind. His scalpel is better than his bite."

"Surgery his specialty?"

"One of many. He mainly deals with pregnant women."

The pieces started coming together. Other than the mention of Daniel and his lack of mention for more grandchildren, Hawkeye was afraid that I'd be stuck with this jackass if I was pregnant again. There were some office and medical politics swirled in there as well, more that I would learn more of them as time passed. But for the moment, this person was just another obstacle I would have to jump over too. Melvin Cochran also had no idea who he decided to mess with. If Hawkeye promised me some payback, I'll have to wait.

I wanted to change the topic though. Curious about our previous adventure, I asked, "So, what's the story with Jake?"

Hawkeye was quiet for a moment. I thought he didn't hear me over the shouting until he spoke. "There's been some rumors. One said that he settled here with his wife after a war. Other say his wife forced him to give up a life to live here."

"He doesn't talk much," I observed.

"No," Hawkeye agreed, "but he's a good guy. You can't go wrong with him."

By a silent agreement, we decided to stick with safer subjects. By then, Daniel had joined us. He brought us cotton candy and some plates of lobsters and two cups of water. In his pockets, he also two bottles of beer, one for himself and another for Hawkeye. Once he collected Shannon from the swings, we followed him to a nearby picnic table and ate with some of our neighbors. The group also included Larry and Mrs. Pettigrew.

The talk was typical. I heard some things about kids trashing the beaches again (I attested to that), wildlife Larry found one morning and deep sea fishing. It was a relatively safe conversation that bounced from the familiar to the inquiring. Eventually, it directed itself to the recent ceasefire. Again, there were questions about Hawkeye and myself and what we did in Korea. Some of them were more curious than most and had questioned us on specifics once more. One was brazen enough to ask how we met and how Shannon was conceived!

I had enough. I allowed Hawkeye the floor this time and volunteered to take the garbage to the bin. Mrs. Pettigrew sighed at me like I had done wrong and gathered everyone's napkins and paper and plastic utensils and plates before handing them to me. I balanced the large pile under my chin as I ambled slowly to the metal can. Just as I dropped them though, I heard a whirling noise overhead. Then, I smelled it – the recognizable scent of burning human flesh.

I couldn't remember what happened next. What I did know was that I was back in Korea and running for my life and damning Flagg at the same time. I was back at the river, my jeep flipped over, my driver missing and the bombs being released. I had just helped to treat an officer, who told me to go after his men before him. My breath had been taken out of me already. My adrenaline was pumping. I had to get these men to safety too, to get away from the North Korean fliers that decided we were a good target.

Behind me, the bomb that would nearly kill me whizzed past my ears. I cried out in pure agony, begging someone to help me. Darkness fell around me and I was shrouded in the same mist that brought me to the supernatural world in Bloomington. I sought to bring myself out of it. I was not ready to die. No, I had a life ahead of me that was full of family and joy. I didn't want to leave my daughter behind.

 _No, no, no! I am not ready. God, I am not ready!_

But then, there was a gentle voice in that wilderness. I could not discern who it was. However, it was coaxing me to reality. It kept telling me to follow the sounds, to come back to a world where there was no war and destruction. This voice also had a tender touch, guiding me to sit down and to put my arms over my head and to inhale and exhale slowly. I obeyed it, eventually feeling myself sitting on a sandy mound and soothing myself into normalcy.

When I finally opened my eyes, I stared right into the angry face of Mrs. Pettigrew. She grabbed my wrists and pulled me upright. "Girl, get up!" she yelled. "What are you doing, making a fool of yourself? Don't you know where you are?! Can't you tell fireworks from gunshots?!"

I stuttered something in return and was silenced by a shove. Someone grabbed me and embraced me closer – _Hawkeye_. His arms were so warm and safe that I almost melted right in. I was so relieved to be away from that horrible incident and that woman that I did not care he was hiding me from everyone else's penetrating stares. Hawkeye took me to a more private corner with our neighbor following in his wake, all the while screaming shrilly that I was no good and how useless I was being a mother and a wife.

It was then that I realized that the dream from the month before was that raid I sought to forget. Shamefully, I cried tears of pain over Mrs. Pettigrew's petty lecture and admonished myself, thinking that she was right. There was also something else I wept over too. It wasn't just for me, but for everything that we had lost. Men, materials and other resources could not come to life. Only I, one of the few survivors of that event, did, and with it, the loss of the one thing I hoped to hold closely: my sanity.

* * *

 **Lyrics are from the Stevie Nicks song "Everyday".**


	8. To Victories and Heartbreaks

Hawkeye and Daniel quickly decided that it was time to go home and without further delay. Gathering Shannon, we stuffed ourselves into the Packard at the parking lot behind Eddie's and took off. Daniel again took the wheel, keeping the conversation low-key, if he tried talking at all. While he and Hawkeye talked in soft tones up front, I had my daughter in my arms. She was whimpering, scared of something, and I blamed myself for it.

And why not? Mrs. Pettigrew had been right. I made a complete fool of myself in front of everyone. I was useless as a wife and mother and had no right to be here. All of my fantasies I had in Korea were nothing more than childish dreams. I would never fit into this quiet world of Crabapple Cove and be the strong woman Hawkeye needs me to be.

Once Daniel glided the vehicle to a stop in the driveway, Hawkeye and I got out quickly. Love was about to say something to me, but I was too fast for him and ignored his pleas to stop and wait for him. I carried Shannon to the door and inside, racing inside to hide my embarrassment. I deposited her on the couch, hoping that she would bring out her crayons and color some pictures for me like she normally did. However, she was equally upset and began crying at the top of her lungs.

Astonished, I didn't know what to do or say. Feeling helpless, I only picked her up and held her to my shoulder, crying along with her and telling her how sorry I was. Around and around the living room we went, our clothes and shoes soon soaked with our tears. After some minutes, Hawkeye stopped me and held the two of us closely. He tried easing Shannon out of my arms, but like the little girl I found burnt and dying in Korea, I refused to let her go. He wasn't going to win this time.

I don't know how much time passed. We remained in this position for a while surely because even I was stiff and hurting from standing for so long. Shannon eventually fell asleep against my wet dress, curled up against me with her thumb in her mouth. Her eyelashes bounced up and down, still between a dream and this world, before mumbling something incomprehensible. It was then that Daniel took a chance and snagged her from me, moving her upstairs to bed.

This left Hawkeye and I together in an awkward position. We tried laughing it off to shove our highly-strung emotions to one side, but it was useless. We held onto each other for a few moments before I wrapped my arms around his neck. He returned the gesture, sensing my need for comfort. Before I knew it, Hawkeye had picked me up and carried me to the couch, whispering all sorts of promises to keep me from thinking of earlier. He stumbled the last few steps and I landed on the cushions, laughing as he kneeled before me as a way to keep himself from getting hurt.

That was how Daniel found us when he returned. He said nothing, raising an eyebrow and clearing his throat. "Any of you hungry?"

"No," we both said simultaneously.

"How about a nightcap?"

I was surprised. "I think it's a good idea," I replied. "How about we set up in my space? We'll need some chairs though."

The intensity of the words I uttered had a larger effect on Hawkeye and Daniel than my father-in-law's suggestion to have a few drinks before bed. They stared at me like I had two heads. I didn't think it was an outrageous offering. There wasn't anything in that side room I wasn't going to hide (yet, anyway). All I did in there the past month was clean it and straightened out a few things and added a few personal items. The old boxes had disappeared to the basement and a fresh coat of paint had hit the walls and the light fixture had been changed. A light lavender with some flower pattern on the top was all I managed to make my own. The only real furniture in there was the desk and I thought to utilize it.

"Do we have your permission?" Hawkeye asked.

"Yes," I confirmed, stronger in my resolution. "You both have my permission to enter."

Even though I gave my word, Hawkeye and Daniel were not comfortable with this prospect, but they went with it anyway because I requested it. My father-in-law went to the kitchen and grabbed three glasses and some scotch. Hawkeye took three chairs from the dining room and brought them to the door. Tiptoeing upstairs, I grabbed the key and returned, unlocking the entranceway and turning on the light. I allowed Hawkeye the chance to arrange the seating and Daniel settled the bottle and glasses down on the desk. We took our places and Daniel poured equal portions.

"To old friends," Daniel toasted first. We clicked our glasses together and drank.

Hawkeye was next for the second round. "To new beginnings."

"To cooperation," I added for the third downing.

We continued like this several times until the bottle was empty and we were all saddened by what we remembered. None of us felt numb enough though. Even Daniel was commenting how the scotch wasn't doing its work and there were some unresolved matters he required it to solve. He thought another bottle would do the trick and had Hawkeye fetch it.

"It might be in the kitchen," he warned Love. "If not, check under my bed upstairs."

Hawkeye nodded. Almost like a newborn colt, he wobbled out of the room and strode to the appointed room. This left me and Daniel alone. All at once, I realized that he had done this on purpose. He wanted to talk to me about something and without Hawkeye present. My father-in-law cleared his throat once more for attention before proceeding.

"What happened out there?" he asked me.

"Earlier?" I wrinkled my forehead in an effort to concentrate. "Before we left?"

"Yes," Daniel replied. "Mrs. Pettigrew had her theory…"

He dropped it there. I wasn't sure if Daniel was aware of what our neighbor said to me or what conspired between him and her. If he did, would he have changed his mind about Mrs. Pettigrew? If so, was this all an act, between these two elderly people? Was there an ulterior motive or back story that I was missing? From the body language Daniel briefly showed, he and Mrs. Pettigrew were in cahoots with each other. How and why was another story.

"You're studying me very intently." Daniel laughed, his cheeks flushing. "That's different for you. It's another mask. I like it."

I stopped curbing into my former life with Flagg. "You don't know what life it came from. It's not something I'm proud of."

"But how easy was it for you to be in your own skin here?" Daniel challenged me. "This is how I truly understood my wife. She decided to leave behind everything she knew too. Before she…died, my mother did the same thing to my wife that I am with you. She allowed Annabeth this space to be herself. Even if you're not fond of that chapter, at least it's not the theme of the book. It stays behind you."

By then, Hawkeye came back with the alcohol. "It's halfway full," he offered as he filled the glasses. "We can polish this off and go to sleep."

We agreed and resumed our activity. This time, we decided that we would remember people instead of ideas and beliefs. Daniel named his wife first, which surprised Hawkeye. Love recovered enough to bring up Calvin Spaulding, a victim of suicide a year ago now. I was stuck though. A name was lodged in my throat and I could not get the name out in the open.

"Dean," I finally uttered.

There was more I could call out, shards that pierced my heart heavily. Henry was another. The boys who wheeled in as forever young or old. The civilians and their children that were dealt a cruel hand. Every one of those people deserved more too. But my twin brother…he was on my mind that moment. Dean should have been there with us, with his fiancée Amy, drinking that scotch bottle down to nothing. I could picture him in my mind, laughing and telling me how slow I was and that a million more shots will have me caught up in no time.

We went around in a circle like this for another hour before the second bottle was empty. Daniel collected the two trophies and declared that he retiring for the night. Hawkeye helped him in bringing the chairs into the dining room and hung around the doorway until I noticed him. I rolled my eyes and nodded that he could reenter. He obeyed me with hesitation, surveying the small room like a long-lost friend. It must have been over twenty years since he was in here. The emptiness of that time stretched far and wide.

He noted the unframed picture of me and Dean on the desk, picking it up. "When was this?"

I peeked over his shoulder. "After basic training, before Christmas 1940. Dean met me at some bar in New York City. We wanted to celebrate before our permanent duty stations."

"Looks fancy," Hawkeye observed.

I pointed to the right. "The Rainbow Room was right there. Dean had a date and some lieutenant who liked me had dinner there too, before we went drinking. My brother's friend took the picture of us. She said that we were like two people sitting on the edge of forever with not a care in the world."

I had to stop myself before the whole story filled out into tears. There were so many emotions that rolled over me that I almost couldn't breathe. Dean's date was right. It was the first time we met since I had liberated myself from Bloomington and Dean had graduated from the military academy. We were free to do as I wished. Clarence did not have a far enough reach to grab me anymore and I had do everything in my power to forget him. Dean had enough space behind him to show me the way, drinking as we ran into the unknown.

Hawkeye put the photo down, pained. "It does seem like two hundred years ago, doesn't it?"

"More so now than in Korea," I replied softly. "I already see it as a dozen more lifetimes ago."

Again, there was that silence. Hawkeye hooked his arm around mine and we took our bows. I managed to detangle to lock up behind me and we went upstairs to bed. All the while, I pushed aside all thoughts of my dead brother in order to keep sane. For the moment, Mrs. Pettigrew was on my mind. All of those questions that I thought of when Daniel and I talked alone were my ticket. The two old people were concocting something. Few things pieced themselves together easily enough.

Daniel was one for understanding and sought it from us. Who better than to talk to the neighbor, Mrs. Pettigrew? I heard a few instances where she stated that war was horrible, notably from her grandson. She was there first when I had my breakdown, not Hawkeye. Daniel also mentioned that she had a notion and did not specify.

 _About what though? What is Mrs. Pettigrew's story? Where did she come from? And why is she being so difficult and conciliatory all at once?_

All night, I pondered these questions until a murky slumber claimed me and threw me back into the past. By five, I was already up and rubbing Hawkeye's back for comfort as he cried into his pillow. This time, he didn't wake the rest of the household, but his moans petrified me enough that I could not find sleep afterward. When he had settled into a fitful waking state that required him to get up and dress, I snuck past him and set the coffee up.

I had an idea to resolve this matter. Quickly, I slipped into the rear hallway and outside, walking to Mrs. Pettigrew's house next door. Even in my robe and bare feet on the sand, I thought myself decent enough as I knocked on the door and Larry answered. The teenager eyed me up and down as his grandmother screamed about who was bothering them at this hour. When he said that it was me, she rushed over and shoved him to one side.

"What do you want?" she snarled at me.

"Mrs. Pettigrew, I was wondering if you'd like to join us for coffee," I offered as sweetly as I could. It sounded fake, even to my ears. "It should be ready in a few minutes."

"No," the old woman replied tartly. "Today is not a good day." But there was something about her tone that softened and that was what thrilled me.

"How about tomorrow? It would give you more warning."

"I accept the offer, Mrs. Pierce. Shall we say six o'clock?"

To the early hour, I agreed, and left with a smile, whistling happily the whole way about my victory. Returning to the kitchen, I already saw the usual herd begging for the pot to finish brewing. Hawkeye and Daniel both raised their eyebrows at me though. They were aware of where I was and were quite bewildered as to why I would brave the volatility of Mrs. Pettigrew. None of them said anything either. Daniel had to nudge Hawkeye in the ribs with his elbow to keep the sarcasm at bay.

It was a typical day, but I had more spring in my step since leaving Korea. Motivation and energy consumed me and got me working. From top to bottom, I cleaned the house, with Shannon underfoot and Hawkeye on my heels. I had to chase them away multiple times before I gave up, leaving the living room (the last on the list) for the morning. By the time Daniel walked in the door, dinner was on the table and I was pleased with its efforts since I didn't burn anything.

When we sat down to eat, I decided to mention inviting Mrs. Pettigrew for coffee in the morning. Daniel said nothing and grinned like the Cheshire Cat, but Hawkeye was obviously fuming. He bit his bottom lip on multiple occasions, willing himself not to explode on me. When Shannon was out of earshot and dragging Daniel off for a story, he kicked me under the table and asked what the hell was wrong with me.

"Nothing," I admitted. I smiled to cover my tracks.

Hawkeye was not convinced. "You're hiding something."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am _not_. And you have no proof."

"Oh, I intend to have it." Hawkeye stuck his tongue out at me. "I know you."

I sighed. The game was up for the moment. "Hawkeye, seriously, do I need to spell out everything for you in crayon? Your Dad and Mrs. Pettigrew are up to something I just want to see what it is. There. Happy now?"

"They are not." Hawkeye was incredulous.

"How long have they known each other?"

"As far back as I can remember."

"Yeah. You think they wouldn't be cooking up some scheme?"

"But why? Dad wouldn't stoop that far."

"I don't know," I confessed. "We'll see tomorrow."

That ended the conversation. Hawkeye accepted that I was the lone wolf on this mission. Although he threatened to take pictures and follow us around, he had no intentions of butting into this investigation. This too was another victory. He was trusting me to do the right thing, even if I couldn't tell him the truth outright and waited until the last minute. Love will stew on this for a while and use it on his soapbox next time he had a bug up his ass. I knew it.

Shannon and Daniel soon returned. She had persuaded my father-in-law to give her a bath and was soaked, dripping water all over the floor. It didn't help that my daughter was also wearing a bathing suit and pretending that she was a fish. When Daniel released her from her towel, she jumped on the couch, flopped and pretending to be out of the water.

"Wouldn't it be best to call her a mermaid princess?" I inquired.

Daniel was intrigued by the phrase. "A… _mermaid_ princess?"

"Hans Christian Anderson," I explained. "Except Shannon won't be turning into sea foam anytime soon. And she's done enough good deeds."

He seemed vaguely familiar with the tale and smiled weakly at the recognition. "Why don't you read her that tonight?" he suggested.

" _Me_?" I never read to Shannon before. It didn't seem to be part of my job description.

"I'll do it," Hawkeye volunteered, still munching on the last of his meal.

Daniel looked from me to Hawkeye a few rounds before sighing. "Well, the mermaid princess has an upcoming bedtime anyway. Mind if you help her keep that appointment?"

We took the hint. While I tucked Shannon into bed, Hawkeye went to find the book in question. In the few minutes he was gone, I felt a sense of something different. We had quieted down. I mean, there was so much to do when we were in Korea and there was always a social scene we jumped to when we were bored. Nowadays, in the month since we've been home, the best description had been…well, _tedious_. I mean, I would not have traded my daughter for anything in the world. However, there was something missing in our lives and that were our friends from that experience.

Nobody had contacted us in the weeks since our arrival to the States yet. Lorraine had sent a letter, saying that my mother had not been seen, but that was it (and I hardly cared to check in because nobody would tell me anything). I never reached out either, I chided myself, believing that we all needed some space away from each other. We did, I also conceded, but that was beside the point. We all had to reunite somewhere, somehow, and put that party our family had to shame.

In my musings, Shannon had tugged on my dress. "Mommy, where were you?" she asked me.

I laughed, playing with her black hair. "What do you mean, baby? I've been here."

"No," she insisted stubbornly. "Grandpa says you were gone."

"Gone… _where_?" I felt my throat tighten.

"Far," she replied. "Far, far away. I'm happy you're here."

Hawkeye entered at the moment. "I found it!" he exclaimed. "Now, which story did we agree on…?"

I stood up abruptly and left. Hawkeye wasn't fazed by this departure, continuing his task of reading to our daughter. Out in the hallway though, I leaned against one of the side tables and covered my eyes with my hands. I felt bitter tears rush out. It wasn't fair, I kept telling myself. It wasn't justice to us that this little girl was deprived of not just Hawkeye, but _me_ , her own mother. No money in the world, not even the pension I receive every month, would compensate for the lost time and agony.

What was worse was knowing that my daughter was also hurt. Even Shannon knew that we were in Korea. She had missed us.


	9. Shattered Illusions

Hardly recovered by the next morning from Shannon's remark, I set out to shop for food and then to clean the living room to distract myself from another breakdown. While feeling that my choice of clothing was very inappropriate for both chores, I continued my tasks in my Army green pants and jacket, 4077th t-shirt and boots. While it was getting chilly outside as the autumn days continued, I still passed up on bringing out my winter gear or going out shopping. I had the suitable items to wear. I was still stuck on what was familiar to me.

And that was what bothered me too. While I had longed for this civilian life and getting out of clothes I was told to wear and the schedules set by the armed forces, another problem that loomed over my head was the Army regiments I spent my adult life utilizing at my own convenience. I was lazy about it, but it was still something to cling onto when there was nothing else to keep my mind occupied. Morning exercises were never my thing and bypassing regulations and rules had been a pastime. In the meantime, I was running like I was still in the Army and without a break in sight.

For the moment, I set those worries aside. Shopping came first and then the house cleaning. I tried zipping through the aisles and then the bakery with my daughter as quickly as I could, hoping to find something of worth so that I didn't have to cook or bake anything. While I was somewhat successful, I still had the last step in my first gathering. I was a housewife now in charge of a meal and that was scary enough.

Shannon did not mind my nervous energy and tried to remain cheery. She seemed to have ignored it, walking home with me without a problem (she talked about being a princess and Hawkeye being her prince mostly) and immediately heading to her room as soon as I opened the front door. She hoped to get some time in with Hawkeye. This left me alone and with the last portion of the house to myself.

So, the crackdown began in earnest and lasted for an hour. When I accidentally sucked in a cloud of dust, I was coughing harshly. I put down the washcloth and leaned against a chair until I stopped hacking. My chest was sore and I was shaking. I went to call Hawkeye for help, but stopped myself. This was not the best moment to present a medical problem to him. I thought it better to wait until we were alone.

With that in mind, I also considered it the best moment to take a breather (no pun intended) and change. When I started for the stairs, the doorbell rang harshly three times. From the second floor, Daniel and Hawkeye were already running down to answer it. I beat them both to it and opened the entranceway, finding Mrs. Pettigrew and Larry on the porch.

"Good morning, Mrs. Pettigrew." I smiled brightly. Then, I nodded at her grandson. "Larry."

"Are you going to let us in, Mrs. Pierce, or do I need to stand out there longer in the cold?" Mrs. Pettigrew noted my sad state and sighed in a frustrating manner. She also sounded pretty fed up with something, but I was unsure as to what yet.

"Oh, please come in." I moved aside. "Coffee will be up in a few minutes. I'll also have breakfast afterward."

That too was a joke. At the bakery, I cheated and bought pastries and other sweet food that went well with coffee. I was afraid of using the stove for more than our favorite beverage and had decided to practice on my own, when nobody was watching or when Hawkeye had a spare moment to make fun of me. The very few times I attempted were moderately a success because Hawkeye or his Dad interfered and reminded me of a few basic cooking tricks. Apparently, being with my mother and learning from her was not the greatest of ideas.

Nonetheless, I bore the brunt of Mrs. Pettigrew's petulant stares, feeling them bear into the back of my head with unease as I backed up and allowed the pair in and shut the cold out. Gulping, I directed them to the dining room table and raced to the kitchen for the promised treats. The stovetop pot rumbled simultaneously, indicating it was finished preparing. I pulled it off and filled two mugs with cream and sugar, presenting them to our guests. I also grabbed the food and laid it out before hiding in the kitchen.

Hawkeye soon appeared. "Are you all right?" he asked me.

"Peachy," I replied cheerfully as I pretended to be busy checking how much coffee we had left. "Do you think you can distract them for a moment while I change?"

"You look fine to me." His eyes raked me from head to toe.

I swatted his arm gently. "Hawkeye!"

"What? Can a man dream in Army drab?"

"Not when we're home, you cannot."

"Spoil sport! You take all the fun away."

I changed the topic quickly. I ignored Hawkeye sticking his tongue out at me too. "Where's Shannon?"

"Dad had her a minute ago," Hawkeye said hesitantly. He dashed out to check.

There was no way I was sneaking upstairs to put on civilian clothing. Sighing, I followed Hawkeye to the dining room, confident and grinning like an idiot. I took a seat across from my so-called enemy, Mrs. Pettigrew, and studied her the way Flagg taught me to. So far, so good, I noticed. She was enjoying her time here immensely, sipping her coffee and chatting with Daniel about some neighborhood gossip. She didn't even pay any heed to Larry, who was playing with Shannon at the table.

Hawkeye finally joined me, listening to the same dribble. He was bored with it, feeling it the same things, except we were in a different year and generation. He stifled a yawn as politely as he could. Then, he inquired about his cup of coffee. I obeyed as best as any housewife should, mixing the concoction in the kitchen and bringing it directly to him. I also brought my own on the same trip.

From that point forward, I tried as best as I could to keep up with the town antics. But I was also bored out of my skull. Half of these people I had not become acquainted with. The other half of them, I heard tales about and did not care. Either way, it was a no-win situation for us.

Daniel noticed this early on and tried heading it off at the pass. There was no success. Mrs. Pettigrew was a natural talker when she got going, running over anyone who stood in her way. Eventually, she slowed down. When she did, my father-in-law took the plunge and interjected before she went off on another tirade about Eddie's Bar and Grill.

"Hawkeye, Larry, I think I'm going to need some help cleaning the beach," Daniel offered. "Why don't we head out now?"

Hawkeye was going to protest. I saw his lips quivering in anticipation, begging his Dad to allow him the limelight. On the other hand, Larry was too interested in Shannon, doing magic tricks and making her giggle. His teenaged face pouted in such a way that almost made me laugh. However, Daniel was persistent, urging the two on until they relented. Finishing up their breakfast, they all left me with Mrs. Pettigrew. I was more surprised to see my own daughter run off with the trio too. Her food was almost untouched.

This was frightening. I did not expect to be face-to-face with the women who did nothing except be rude to me and mine. But I kept up the happy pretense. I was supposed to be Mrs. Pettigrew's hostess. I offered her more coffee. While she consented to her second helping, she also grumbled under her breath about something. When I returned, I did not point it out. I was going to try and pick up on where she left off with her conversation, but she stopped me.

"Spare me your playacting, Mrs. Pierce," Mrs. Pettigrew began powerfully. Her curt manner had suddenly vanished. "I do not like a woman who pretends to be someone she is not."

"What do you mean?" I relaxed a little. I allowed my stance to show how annoyed I was, albeit briefly. This was going to be an argument to the finish and I wasn't going to let her win.

"You cannot just _waltz_ into Crabapple Cove and not be yourself," Mrs. Pettigrew went on. "We are of a united community and are very conservative, yes, but we also have our individuals who cater to people who did not find their hearts so strict. You are not one of us, Mrs. Pierce, and yet you yearn to be. Why?"

"I conform to whatever environment demands me to," I admitted. "People shun me because they know how we returned from Korea."

"But it does not mean you need to be," she pressed. This was the first time I also saw true kindness in Mrs. Pettigrew's eyes. "Already, you try to make an impression with me and succeeded in leaving on the most important items of your young adult years. What that tells me is that you are not ready to throw away what had been the most impressive time of your life. Tell me, Mrs. Pierce, where were you born?"

"Fort Leavenworth, Kansas," I replied. "My father was stationed there at the time."

"He was in the Army as well, I take it?"

"Yes. He was a career man. Korea was his third war."

"And you followed him when he moved?"

"Yes. After a year or so, he decided that did not want a wife and two young children tailing after him. He had enough of that with my older brothers. He left us on some off-base housing in Illinois and came back occasionally. After the divorce, it did not matter."

I stopped myself. Why the hell was I telling this woman my life story? Most certainly, Mrs. Pettigrew did not need to know it and did not care. She had been nasty to me since I met her and made a point of hurling insults in my face. However, something allowed the words to flow out. Her inner benevolence shone in those old blue eyes. She was hard on me, yes, and she was pushing me to do something.

 _But what? What does Mrs. Pettigrew want from me?_

Mrs. Pettigrew saw my hesitation. "You are a woman of many places then."

I was silent. I did not wish to answer her statement. It was true though and one that stung me to the core. Daddy had been stationed at so many bases that he did not like dragging Mom, Dean and I around. That was the beginning of the end of their marriage and one that defined my career with the Army too. The only difference was that Mom didn't like dealing with a drunk and abusive man and found religion when Clarence swept her off of her feet. I just went where the wind didn't blow so strange.

"I am hoping that your father-in-law allows you some space," she ventured again. The tone was definitely softer. "I know that his wife was the same way. She was a sad woman, that Annabeth. She loved her family so much, but she also had troubles with her past. She did not specify, but I am sure that she was like you."

"This is no family trait," I pointed out, harder than I intended. I stood up, feeling my rage build up. "You are talking about a life here, Mrs. Pettigrew. _Mine._ I don't see why you have a desire to butt into it. From the moment I met you, my life has been hell. You've displayed contempt and judgment on someone who is not only new in town, but also quite lost after three extraordinary years in a foreign country, in a war we had no place in.

"Quite honestly, I thought to be kind and to try to get to know you better. I was taught in basic training to know my enemy and to be friends with them. I also catch onto some secrets of yours too, ones I believe you share with my father-in-law. I also think you can clarify some of them if he cannot. I mean, your grandson has been liberal in telling me tidbits of your life and the pieces fell together pretty well. He's also mentioned how miserable he is. It's a heavy weight you both bear and one I would never wish on you either.

"But tell me, Mrs. Pettigrew," I gushed, hoping to finish my rant, "tell me…how does it feel to be a war veteran too? To forever be watching your back and forgetting where you are? To wish that the nightmares of those days be washed away? Did you ever care about the bloodshed that you saw or the Grim Reaper that counted his dead daily? Did you ever have to spend your days living that life over and over again?"

By the time I finished, I was trembling once more. It wasn't because I couldn't breathe. No, I was enraged. I picked up on the real picture. This woman before me had played a dangerous pastime with me and I wasn't one to be set up as a fool. I was right. Even though there was no physical evidence, Daniel and Mrs. Pettigrew had set me and Hawkeye up, me most of all. It was a test and one that I did not require for entry in Crabapple Cove. I did not have to prove to anyone my worth.

 _Damn them. Damn them all to hell!_

Mrs. Pettigrew was pretty calm for someone who was getting yelled at. Slowly, she finished her coffee and stood up. Like nothing had happened, she too smiled at me. It was one that told me that I had won, that I had found out what was going on. The game was no longer afoot. There was no pretense to uphold any longer.

"I want to thank you for inviting us, Mrs. Pierce," she only stated. "I want to bid you a fond farewell."

And she sauntered out the front door without another word! _The nerve of that woman!_

A few minutes later, Hawkeye, Daniel and Shannon returned. Both my father-in-law and husband were visibly upset and Shannon copied their emotions. Daniel saw my position at the table and sought to keep my daughter occupied elsewhere. She had large ears and a wide perception. Coloring in the living room was not going to cut it this round.

While Daniel disappeared upstairs with her, I faced Hawkeye. I was still upset over my speech that I ran to his arms for comfort. It was an easy soothing, especially when his fingers ran through my hair gently, repeatedly. He too was aware of what conspired. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why Mrs. Pettigrew suddenly departed and without a tantrum to boot.

"I was right," I told Hawkeye. "I was right after all."

"What?" Understanding dawned on him. "Dad had a hand in this?"

"In a way, yes," I clarified.

"What did I do?" Daniel suddenly reappeared and joined us.

I disconnected from Hawkeye quickly and faced him. "You knew Mrs. Pettigrew was testing me," I announced. It was a bold statement and one that made Daniel freeze. "She was trying to get under my skin and prove to you that I wasn't worthy of your son. She picked on me."

For the first time since coming to Crabapple Cove, I saw Daniel's composure collapse and his face pale like a ghost. He sought the nearest seat (the couch) and staggered into it, mimicking a drunk in every way. While Hawkeye rushed forward to ensure that he was all right, I stood my ground and watched the scene with indifference. A huge distance had grown between him and me. I was not going to jump over the gap and comfort him because the distance was required. No, the truth had to be told and Daniel held those keys.

Once Hawkeye was certain his Dad was all right, he too contracted my frostiness. "Is what Jeanie saying is true?" he demanded.

"Every word," Daniel confirmed to Hawkeye alone. He regained some color, but barely. "Mrs. Pettigrew was suspicious about Jeanie. For almost three years, she listened to those letters, Hawkeye. She was amazed that you found someone to settle with, but did not believe that Jeanie was genuine. She used the same tactics as she did with all newcomers and her grandson."

"She's a bully!" Hawkeye declared angrily. "Mrs. Pettigrew is a menace and I want her out of this house!"

"Hawkeye, don't you think it's a little extreme?"

"No. Not when it concerns me, my wife and my daughter. Mrs. Pettigrew insulting my family is one thing. Seeing if Jeanie meets the bar is another thing. How could you believe her, Dad? _How could you?_ "

This silenced Daniel so much that I thought he would walk away from Hawkeye permanently. But he had an answer for that tough question too. "I didn't. I knew that your relationship with Jeanie was serious the moment I had more than ten letters about her and all of them positive. I couldn't tell her not to, Ben. There was no stopping her. I tried though. She did not listen to me and planned it out. She was excited when the armistice was called."

Even I was shocked. In the nearly two months I had lived with Hawkeye and his Dad, I _never_ heard Daniel call Hawkeye by his actual first name. There was always an unspoken rule about it. It was a forbidden tag and one long ago forgotten, catapulted into the grey mists of the past. This was grim indeed.

Just as quickly as the fury came about, it flew right out of me. I was not angry at Daniel. I was furious at the situation. Now that he admitted Mrs. Pettigrew's misdeeds, I could not place any blame on him anymore. It was not his sin to carry. Even though he attempted in every way to cease her scheming, he was not successful. It was only through my skills as a spy that cornered her and ceased the madness.

If I hadn't invited and confronted Mrs. Pettigrew, Hawkeye and I would have been living in her hideous shadows for longer than we had. There was no reason that somebody should picture a woman trying to steal a man's son. Indeed, the same person should not have thought the worst in me. Granted, I was no angel and most certainly no Christian. I had made a great many mistakes in my life. While most I owned up to, others I saw as part of my growing process. Even so, that was none of anyone's business but my own.

I had enough of the conversation already and moved from my spot towards my private room. "Excuse me please."

Hawkeye tried stopping me, holding my arm in a tight grip. I practically dragged him with me. While he managed to keep me stationary a few times, he had no way of keeping me away from my appointment. Eventually, after Daniel coaxed him to release me, I was able to unlock the door and shut it behind me. In the dark, I reached for the curtains and drew them aside. Light filtered through. It surrounded me with goodness and positivity, but there was no way for me to grasp it.

No, I was too dark. I wasn't going to let some autumn sunshine spoil my bad mood. I was going to allow this negativity to gradually be freed before rejoining my new world. It was going to take maybe a day to be myself again.

But the images of only less than an hour ago…it was enough to last me a lifetime. Mrs. Pettigrew didn't require my forgiveness. On her knees, I would not even grant it.

I took a deep breath to control the monster inside of me and switched to the overhead light. I moved the fabric covering again, to hide my misdeed, and picked up the snapshot with Dean from the desk. God, what a moment. If my twin brother were with me, he'd coach me on revenge. He was one for it, especially towards the end of his life. While he was more bent on pranks than death, he always had a killer's look. He was calculating and charming all at once – a chapter in a book I wished to borrow now.

Thinking of the unfairness in war was what triggered the release. That was when I started screaming on top of my lungs. Then, I threw the old picture of Dean and myself against the wall, ignoring the glass shattering.


	10. Heroes Often Fail

_October 4, 1953  
Crabapple Cove, Maine_

 _Well, Journal, this is the first time I've written in here since moving to Maine. It's been a little more than two months since I left Korea and it's been a trip already. It's not just the reminders of the war everywhere and coping with being a family and a crutch for Hawkeye. Oh, no, it's a battle to keep on my toes in a small town with traditions and conventions…and I broke every one of them._

 _It's not that I don't admire my new family within society's expectations. Granted, I've only just met my father-in-law and heard of the other Pierce family members through word of mouth. I love my daughter to pieces and would die a million times to make her happy and safe. Even her birthday a couple of weeks ago had me smiling. She turned two, that little mite of mine, and made me wish all the more that I could be the mother she wants._

 _While the town itself I can handle (and will talk about in another entry), there is one person I want to focus on. My main concern is a woman named Mrs. Pettigrew. Hawkeye warned me about her before we even left Korea. He claimed that she was a sort of dragon. She hoarded everything that wasn't hers and expected everyone to worship the ground she walked on. She was nasty, rude and just plain unreasonable. I would have preferred to deal with Frank Burns than Mrs. Pettigrew by the way Hawkeye talked about her._

 _Apparently, she had known his family for years and was always a neighbor. There was some history there, I suppose, considering most of the pictures I saw before coming had her in them. It was easy for me then to give this woman the benefit of my doubt because I haven't met her until recently. Oh, I didn't think that she was as bad as my husband painted her to be and I had heard enough of the woman to make me vomit. I mean, all of the characters of Crabapple Cove, while mostly conformist, seem pretty interesting. The newspaper itself was always a laugh!_

 _When I arrived here, Mrs. Pettigrew was more malicious than I expected. I thought that she would allow me the same space and get to know me. It was only common courtesy to make someone an acquaintance before pelting out judgments. My father-in-law did state clearly from the first day that the town was already gossiping about the way we handled our relationship, Shannon being born before we married and coming home from war without a care in the world about their opinions. Mrs. Pettigrew was no exception._

 _Crabapple Cove aside, Mrs. Pettigrew's shadow loomed. I was wrong about her. That woman decided to test me._ _ME!_ _She wanted to check to see if I was the real thing, like some lab rat injected with a serum. She put me in such a position that I had to force her to show her hand. And my own father-in-law was privy to her plans. Daniel Pierce, resident doctor and all-around friend to all, told her off and she did it anyway! And she pretended to be a friend in the process!_

 _I am still seething. It has been almost three weeks since the incident, when I invited her to breakfast. What a scene! And there she sat at the dining room table, talking to me like I was some normal human being. How dare she though?! How dare she use my kindness and expose her scheming?! It's unheard of. Most certainly, I will not extend such a request again._

 _I can handle compassion (which I was trying to be). I cannot abide by worthless and underhanded plans. I honestly had enough of them with Flagg. But I cannot fault Daniel for trying to prevent it. He tried telling this woman off and keeping her off of our backs. Damn, damn, damn!_

 _Right now, it's been like walking on eggshells with Daniel. Sure, he did nothing wrong. He just kept the drama away from us. But I know that he sees this as involvement. He's been trying his best to somehow make it up to me. What he'll do, I cannot say, but he's been giving me more space and has offered to help more. Our once warm relationship is a little frosty. It doesn't help that Hawkeye isn't in a better mood either._

 _Something is churning in Hawkeye's mind. I know it. He's been thinking about something and it isn't just Korea. No. He's contemplating something. We'll see what it is. It's not like Love to keep it to himself. He'll tell me in his good time._

I heard a knock on the door behind me. Sighing, I closed the journal. I knew what it was about. It was Hawkeye, reminding me that we had a date tonight.

Daniel had taken some time off and had been urging us to have a night to ourselves. For the past four days, he had been nagging at us to have an adult life. Once Hawkeye put in a dinner reservation at Eddie's, the deal was sealed. He surprised me this morning with the revelation and talked about all these plans for the night. Walking by the beach, coming home drunk, staying up past our bedtime…all of these things we used to do in Korea, he wanted us to enjoy now. And Daniel was encouraging it all the way at the table, saying that he already booked his hours and tonight and tomorrow morning wasn't one of them. He was free to watch Shannon.

To say the least, I was surprised. My initial reaction was also fear. Sure, I can moderate myself. Drinking was a pastime, but it wasn't as bad as it was maybe three, four years ago. But we had come home less than three months ago. I wasn't ready to come out of this shell and meet new people and taking care of appointments was not helping. Going to the grocery store and to that festival had been enough. It was too much!

Worse, I didn't want to leave Shannon behind. Guilt of leaving her also compounded the issue. I was panicking from breakfast onward. Daniel had taken care of her for so long now. It was supposed to be _my_ turn to have her. He had done enough for the little girl. I could not thank him enough for his efforts.

I was wary, even as I opened the book again and wrote the closing:

 _There's a knock at the door. It's my cue. Hawkeye and I have a date tonight. Wish me luck. I'll write more about it later too._

I opened the door and smiled at Love. "You didn't have my permission to come near," I teased.

Hawkeye had my coat and opened it for me so that I could slip in. Once I was buttoned up, he replied, "The rules didn't say that I couldn't knock."

"Oh? I wasn't aware." I kissed him and turned to lock up.

It was a short walk to Eddie's and a warmer night than normal. We did not need the car. Daniel offered it though. The keys dangled in his fingers as we reached the door. Even Shannon was there, begging for hugs and kisses. Hawkeye declined the Pakcard, taking me by the arm as he obliged our daughter her wishes. I did the same as he led me out the door, waving good night.

I was so nervous as we walked further away. "I didn't prepare a dinner," I said, wanting to turn back. "Your Dad will need something."

"Jeanie, he's cooked since before I was born," Hawkeye pointed out. "He doesn't need your help now."

"What about the dishes?" I was grasping at any excuse I could to run. "I left some from lunch."

"Dad has two hands. He's done it before."

"Hawkeye, what about the laundry? I left a wet load in the washer. The dryer is still going too."

Hawkeye stopped and looked at me. His hands were on my shoulders. "Jeanie, what is the matter with you? Don't you want to go to dinner tonight?"

"Yeah, I do." I was hesitant though.

"And don't you want to drink? Dance? Have a good time?"

"I do, but –"

"Why are you so guilty?"

He caught up quickly. The game was up. I sighed. I didn't want to admit these feelings to Hawkeye…not yet anyway. I was still exploring what it meant to be a mother. Sure, I guess I was winging it pretty well. But I still thought there were too many flaws. We drank less and less (minimal three drinks a night now) and conducted ourselves in a more befitting manner for a married couple. But there was still the spark of doubt inside of me that told me that I was worthless.

And that was it. I still believed that I was not part of this wonderful picture. I mean, I deserved it. I worked pretty hard to get out from under Flagg's boots. But the prize I was paying was possibly ruining my daughter's life. I wasn't there from the beginning. She was given to Trapper and then Daniel. Hawkeye and I were the biggest change in her young life. It was enough to make me cry.

Quickly, I wiped the tears from my face. "I'm afraid."

"Of what?" Hawkeye pulled me closer and embraced.

"Many things," I replied honestly. "Can we talk about it later? When we don't have a million ears around us?"

Hawkeye understood immediately. Already, there were other couples doing the same thing we were. Most of them were about our age, maybe a little younger, and all of them heading over to Eddie's. There were some teenagers as well, too young to drink, but willing to have a good time elsewhere. I noted Larry walking the other way with a beautiful girl. I thought it was the one he sought to date.

Taking a deep breath, I hooked my arm back in with Hawkeye's and took the lead. Within half an hour, we were in the parking lot and trying to get in line. Already, at five in the evening, it was crowded and people were seeking spots and pushing each other for entry. We narrowly missed being hit a few times in each driver's desperate yearning to lock up their car and get in.

When we managed to get behind some couples on our way in, I tugged at Hawkeye's sleeve. "Is it normally like this?" I asked.

Music filtered over our heads as Hawkeye answered. "Depends on the night. Sometimes, Eddie has it worse."

"Oh?" I was interested.

He nudged me ahead. Paulie was at the door. He waved me and Hawkeye in and pointed to a table in the far corner, where most of the married couples were seated. We obliged this request. A waitress dropped off some menus and was off, wiggling her hips at Hawkeye as she fluttered away on her roller-skates. He tried ignoring the woman, gulping and glancing at me to see if I noticed. I pretended that the incident did not happen. I listened to the music and chose my meal instead.

 _I came across a fallen tree.  
I felt the branches of it looking at me.  
Is this the place we used to love?  
Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?_

 _Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?  
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on.  
So, tell me when you're gonna let me in.  
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin._

The same woman was brazen enough to return. She immediately gave Hawkeye a beer and asked me what I wanted to drink. I ordered a gin for the appetizer and some tea for dinner. She smirked, writing it down on a notepad. We also gave her our desired food.

"Thank you, Lucy," Hawkeye said. He handed her the menus back.

"You're welcome," she replied, winking. Then, she leaned closer to Love. "Don't you think she's a little too old, hon?" she whispered.

Hawkeye turned bright red in the face. He laughed nervously. "Lucy, I don't think you've been introduced to my wife. This is Jeanie."

"This is Shannon's mother?" Lucy's eyes grew round as she straightened out.

"Yes," Hawkeye replied. He turned to me. "Jeanie, this is Lucy Werner. We went to school together."

"Grade school," she corrected. She shook her head, almost like she was remembering something. "Gods, Hawkeye, you were tough. You and Tommy Gillis though…you two were something. Milk monitor in the third grade and all, you two were always into trouble. The bottles always seemed to find themselves in strange places."

The two were soon talking about past events from that era. There was much I did not know about my husband and all of it pretty amusing. Some of it was sad too. I noticed that Hawkeye constantly changed the topic when Lucy mentioned Tommy Gillis. I remembered poor Tommy so well. I could not blame Hawkeye for wanting to keep the darkness of Korea away. For the first time, it truly taught us what Henry meant. Young men _did_ die…and doctors cannot change that.

Eventually, Lucy skated away again with our order. Hawkeye met my grey eyes sadly. His blue ones spoke volumes. I reached over and took his hand. I was feeling the same way. The thought of Korea was overwhelming. Even in this environment, we could not escape it. It dogged us, no matter where we were.

 _And if you have a minute, why don't we go,  
Talk about it, somewhere only we know?  
This could be the end of everything.  
So, why don't we go, somewhere only we know?_

 _Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?  
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on.  
So, tell me when you're gonna let me in.  
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin._

I began with some small talk, hoping that I could get us out of our comfort zone. I pointed out the examination rooms. It had been about a month since we decided to close shop. I discussed opening them up again. When Hawkeye nodded agreement, I pushed him a little further. I thought about helping him.

"Not right now," Hawkeye decided.

I didn't even add my argument for it. "Why not?"

"You're not well, Jeanie. You can't take care of a house, a family and a town by yourself."

"I didn't say it had to be by myself. I wanted to be of some use."

"You can take the appointments down still. Dad gave you that job."

I blushed. "I could still. I was hoping –"

"No," Hawkeye finalized. "Not now anyway. I've decided on something else."

This is what I had been waiting for. I rubbed his hand with my thumb. "What?"

"I'm going back to the clinic with Dad," Hawkeye announced quietly. "I was thinking next month. I need to talk with the director."

"That's all?" I was visibly relieved. "I was so worried that it was something else."

"Well, Mrs. Pettigrew got my goat too," Hawkeye admitted. "You know this. But I think I've got the perfect plan."

I groaned. "Oh, Hawkeye, I don't want revenge. I want you to save it for Melvin Cochran."

"No, no, nothing of the sort. I think she needs a taste of her own medicine."

"That's up to you. I don't be a party to this. I am finished with her."

Hawkeye saw the resolve. "I haven't seen you like this before, Jeanie. You've swept your mother under a rug without a qualm. This is different."

"It is." I retracted my hand. Lucy returned with our drinks and the food. "This is one toxic relationship I cannot have. She can be the neighbor all she wants. I will not stand in the way between her and your Dad. I will support any decisions and tolerate the get-togethers. But I cannot like her."

Hawkeye nodded. He had no witty comment to say. He saw the seriousness on my face and decided that it was not worth it. Instead, he picked up on another subject matter. He thought about Shannon's birthday and wanted to talk about Christmas. That was safer. We discussed gifts and what to do about Daniel. By the time we were full and asking for a check, Eddie had begged us to stay for the dancing.

"Oh, come on, you two lovebirds," he insisted. "I've got the perfect tone!"

He also gave us another round on the house. Hawkeye and I shrugged our shoulders. We sat back down and soon relaxed, Hawkeye more so than I was. My mind was on the clock. A little girl was going to bed within the hour and might miss us. I didn't like skipping Shannon's bedtime.

Hawkeye put my unease to rest soon enough. Once Eddie served us our fourth set of drinks, he was braver and I was calming down little by little. Taking me to the dance floor, he whispered all sorts of promises. It took me back to Korea. It wasn't the bad part about being there either. I recalled the moments we tried our best to find some privacy. Hawkeye always made it worth my time too. He was always the biggest instigator then…

 _If you could read my mind, Love,  
What a tale my thoughts could tell.  
Just like an old time movie,  
About a ghost from a wishing well,  
In a castle dark or a fortress strong,  
With chains upon my feet.  
You know that ghost is me  
And I will never be set free  
As long as I'm the ghost that you can see._

 _If I could read your mind, Love,  
What a tale your thoughts could tell.  
Just like a paperback novel,  
The kind the drugstore sells.  
When you reach the part where the  
Heartaches come, the hero would be me.  
Heroes often fail…  
And you won't read that book again  
Because the ending's just too hard to take._

Towards the end of the song, I heard someone yelling faraway, past the parking lot. I couldn't tell from the noise around me what was going on. I tried focusing on Hawkeye instead because of the magic behind the moment. He was nestling into my neck and nibbling out of sight. He also moved so close to me that I felt every muscle under his clothing bristle with excitement.

I wanted to enjoy it. I _really_ wanted to. It reminded me of our initial dating days. But that young voice kept coming back to me. It rang of desperation. There was a tinge of hysteria in there too. There was death nearby and I had to stop it. My mind screamed to pay attention.

Once the song ended, I tried to find the source of that voice. Hawkeye was confused. He tried grabbing me for another dance and to get my mind off of it, but I pushed him away. When I heard the cry for help again, I raced away and ran outside. The screaming grew louder the closer I got to the beach.

"He's drowning! He's drowning! Help! _Help!_ "

I wasn't thinking. Dress or not, I rushed ahead and listened. There was a girl at the shoreline. She was pointing to the waves. A boat was overturned. She kept saying something about Larry. He had taken the boat out to pick up the lobster traps her father had left because she had forgotten to get them and was afraid because she couldn't swim. The waves had been too much and it overturned quickly.

At the moment, I did not care. Just like in Korea, I disregarded all of the dangers. I plunged right in.

* * *

 **Lyrics are (in order) Keane's "Somewhere Only We Know" and Gordon Lightfoot's "If You Could Read My Mind".**


	11. You're the Wave

_Warm sun, feed me up.  
I'm leery, loaded up,  
Loathing for a change.  
And I slip some, boil away._

 _Swallowed, followed,  
Heavy about everything  
But my love…  
Swallowed, sorrowed,  
I'm with everyone and yet not._

Even as an experienced swimmer, the cold shocked my body and I immediately sank in the deep underwater. I didn't expect the ocean to be this frigid in October. But I quickly recovered and continued on anyway, using my feet to push upward from the bottom. I surfaced and faced the night sky, spitting out salt water as it lapped over my face. I fought forward against the strong current. I swam to the boat the girl was indicating and rested for a moment against it.

I was out of breath and shaking. The smooth, slick underside of the boat held me up, but it wasn't going to be for long. My grip was almost frozen and my fingers couldn't flex. I knew that I had little time to find Larry. If the cold water did not take me, then my lungs collapsing would. I could not breathe in these conditions. I had to go to shore soon before I drowned.

I heard Hawkeye in the distance. " _Jeanie_! Jeanie, come back!"

I wasn't listening. I didn't care to either. Taking some air, I went under the waves again. It was so dark and I couldn't see. But the outline of the boat and the direction of the waves helped in finding Larry. He wasn't too far off. He sunk to the bottom some feet away from me.

Self-harming myself in the past had not made me stronger physically. When I reached Larry, I tried pulling him up with me. My wrists were so weak that they bent and forced my frozen fingers to release him. I tried once more and didn't succeed any better. I was also started seeing dark spots before my eyes and was losing consciousness. I had to surface.

I was coughing and numb by the time I reached the boat. After a minute, I dove down and swam for Larry. I didn't feel him in the same spot and panicked. He had moved. My hands frantically grasped at water until they felt cloth. Larry had been carried slightly closer to shore. It might work to my advantage, I figured frantically. If I could work with the water, then there was a chance that we could get back to the shore safely.

I pulled with all of my strength, but that didn't work. I was about to push myself back up for air when I felt someone holding onto me and lifting me up. I couldn't see who it was, but I knew that we were in trusting hands. Their strong arms held me and Larry and took us above the water and back to the shoreline.

Standing on land was like a hard shot to the arm. It was colder than the ocean, fast and unrelenting in its pain. Someone wrapped me in towels, maybe a coat or three. Voices rang over my head. They walked me back to Eddie's Bar. All the while, I was trying to pay attention and see if Larry was ok. However, my body was chattering so hard from head to toe that the only motion I understand was my feet walking in a sort of straight line to the building. There was no other noise except my mimicking drunken dance.

Eddie was at the door. Immediately, he led me to a back room and sat me down in a chair. He barked to somebody behind him to crank up the heat and to get some clothes for a woman about my size or to run back home to get some of my clothes. He didn't ask for my permission to help. He was too quick stripping off the layers and my dress and stockings and shoving me into another room naked. He demanded that I take whatever is in there and wrap myself until dry garments show up.

I looked around quickly and grabbed as much as my arms could take. I sat on a nearby bed and rocked back and forth for warmth. To keep busy, I studied my surroundings. The room was akin to someone's quarters. Of course, it seemed natural that Eddie lived in his place of business. I just didn't expect the amount of sleeping bags, blankets and sheets though. It smelled like the Swamp almost except more than three men and a woman lived in here. Eddie might have several visitors that needed a roof over their head for the night.

Within minutes, Eddie opened the door slightly and tossed in some clothes and boots in my direction. He yelled from the other side that Daniel had sent them and that if I needed help, he was right there. When I went to grab them a few feet in front of me, I noticed that they were green. My father-in-law had sent the most comfortable and durable set I owned. It was my Army uniform.

Putting them on had been the most comfortable thing I had ever done. While the fabric was stiff and itchy, it still held the same thinness and thickness we despised in the Korean heat and cold. It didn't break the chill, but it was better than soaking in my dress. Even so, I continued using the blankets and sleeping bags Eddie had around and remained seated on the bed until he came in a few minutes later.

I stood up on unsteady legs. "Is Larry ok?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows? Hawkeye will tell us in the morning. He had the ambulance take the kid to Portland. He's there with him. The grandmother is following."

"Who came out?" I needed to know my savior too.

"What are you talking about?" Eddie asked. He scratched his head.

"Who swam out with us? I had some help."

"Oh. _Oh._ That. Well, it was Jake. He kinda just…you know. He went after you. He didn't think a dame should be left to her own devices."

"Is he ok?"

"Nothing is going to kill Jake, sweetie. Don't worry about him. Now, you want me to take you home?"

I accepted the offer. Eddie didn't think it wise for me to take his dirty bedding home with me though. Protesting that a lady like me should be decked out in style, he dug through a nearby closet to find me the proper wear for the outdoors other than my Army outfit. Eventually, he came up with another sweater and a coat to place on top of the green. I allowed him the grand opportunity to help me dress in them and escort me out. He also grabbed my purse from Lucy.

On my way out, there were a lot of people who looked my way. There wasn't much in the way of morbid curiosity anymore. People whispered behind their hands with respect. I wasn't just somebody who waltzed into their town on a whim after a war. No, I was one of them, someone who ran out to a resident in need without thought.

In the parking lot, I remembered something. "Oh, my God! I didn't pay for dinner. Let me grab some money."

Eddie held my purse away from me. "Dinner's been paid for, Jeanie. No worries."

"What? What?" I was confused.

"A couple of the patrons paid when they saw what happened. A lot of them also like Hawkeye. He was a scoundrel back in the day, but he was a damned good one. Excuse my language."

"No offense taken."

"Anyway, they appreciate that he was there for Larry too. He had been a kind soul before he was drafted. He was sad and pretty damned obnoxious. He was also a heavier drinker. What was he like in Korea?"

"About the same, I suppose. He liked his soap box too."

Eddie laughed as we continued our walk. "Oh, he had those here too. It depended on the situation though. Sometimes, old Daniel would keep him on a leash. Said he needed to pick and choose his battles more carefully."

"Well, he never really did that in Korea," I said carefully. "Sometimes though, the Army forced his hand and he had no choice."

"Yeah, well, the Army didn't do too many people favors," Eddie replied harshly.

"What do you mean?" The tone in his voice was very bitter and it threw me off guard. "I understand what you are talking about. The Army didn't help me much either. But you never told me you were in the Army."

"I wasn't," Eddie clarified. "Jake was. He was on the ground and in the air in France in 1917, 1918 too. He was part of those people who were promised a bonus and kept having it taken away from him. When the government established the Veterans Association, he was pretty pissy. He and a bunch thousand others marched down to DC."

"Oh, no." I heard this story before. It didn't have a good ending. "His group was dispersed."

"It was," Eddie confirmed. "He lost his wife and his son in the fight. He tried protecting them. The police and MacArthur and Patton kept taking the hits. They were one of the few that died. Jake's daughter was there and ran away. He hasn't seen her since."

Oh, my God," I said thickly. I was close to tears.

"When I hear stories about these people coming back, it makes my blood boil," Eddie continued. "I feel pain for you and Hawkeye. I knew how difficult it was to be there. I heard enough from Jake. But for you two to share that experience and come back like you did, all quiet and in hiding…I cannot imagine it. Jake's story alone is enough."

I was quiet for a minute. I never thought of the VA. I only knew of our own inner demons. However, I had heard the horror stories. I never experienced them firsthand though. The hospitals I worked for had been for soldiers, not veterans. To think that others had been fucked over more times than I had was enough to make my eyes see red. No wonder Jake had been so reserved. He had lost _everything_.

"It is," I agreed. "That alone is enough to make me angry too. We send these children to war and they either come back in a wooden bed or they come back without dignity and strength. There is no life for them after a war. There is only a new afterglow and it sometimes isn't so bright. There's no adjustment, no plan to help them."

"Unlike a lot of them, Jeanie, you have a family," Eddie reminded me. "You have a loving husband, a caring father-in-law and a pretty daughter. You must also have family somewhere, right?"

"Dead or living far away," I replied carefully. I did not want to open up that pain to Eddie yet. "I chose to come here. I wanted to find some peace."

Eddie nodded in understanding and said nothing. Then again, we had arrived home. He took me to the front porch and handed me back my purse. He knocked on the door and winked at me before Daniel opened it a crack. My father-in-law saw me and was jubilant, hiding behind a mask I would later view. Quickly, he swung it wider and pulled me inside. He thanked Eddie for his kindness and shut the cold away. Immediately, he sat me down on the couch.

Daniel stood before me. "What happened?" he demanded. "Hawkeye called me. He said Larry's boat capsized."

"A friend of his asked him to get the lobster traps," I replied softly. "I think the rest of self-explanatory."

"No, that's not what I mean, Jeanie." Daniel crossed his arms. "What _happened_?"

I knew what he meant now. Daniel was referring to my involvement. I didn't know what information he already had. There wasn't anything to hide and I wasn't ashamed by my impulsiveness. But the worry about Shannon was evident now that I was before him, alive. If I was already this rash, then how would I fare as a mother in the future? Would Shannon benefit from me or would she suffer?

These were legitimate concerns. I could not blame Daniel in the slightest for worrying about my daughter. For that matter, I could not blame him for being so concerned about our own behavior. Hawkeye and I had been nothing but children since we arrived and he tried easing us out of it. It was a hard adjustment and one that I thought was going better than expected. There would always be reminders of Korea, but Crabapple Cove was home. We will find healing here.

"I wasn't thinking," I admitted. "My mind focused on something and ran. It wasn't about me anymore. It was about some kid who didn't swim and found herself guilty because her friend took the fall when she should have."

"You did this in Korea, didn't you?" Daniel's voice was so quiet that I almost didn't hear him.

"Yes, we did," I verified proudly. I was tired of hiding my involvement in Korea. "Sometimes, it's a matter of life and death. You have to make a split decision. You cannot sit there and take turns talking about the pros and cons before deciding. I heard someone screaming for help. I wasn't going to stand back there and ignore it. I was going to act on it, even if it meant my life."

I paused, thinking. This sort of action also included my daughter. I wasn't going to stand back and watch her endure hardship either. If Shannon had been in the same situation, I would have gladly gone after her. I just had to make Daniel understand that. How to word it was going to be difficult. He was already glancing at me with more than concern. It was a severe anger and defensiveness. It had to be defused.

"You have Shannon," he told me shakily. "You have me and Hawkeye. What would we have done without you?"

I wanted to laugh. I had lived through a thousand lifetimes and none of them killed me. I didn't think an ocean would do the deed either. But I was more relaxed, hearing the tone changed. It wasn't just about Shannon's care. It was also my death. Daniel had just met me not even two months ago. He didn't want anyone to grieve with another loss.

"Moved on," I argued. "If any one of you were in the same situation, I would have done the same thing and I'm sure you would have too. Don't you understand, Daniel? The years after leaving my parents had been a life of service. I never thought of myself except to drink. I always gave of myself. And that is what I desire the most. I want to be of use to people, but I also see that a little girl needs me too.

"Larry is all that Mrs. Pettigrew has left. If he had died, what would she have to live for anymore? She's lost family too, remember, and her grandson alone remains. Even if there had been wrong, I wouldn't wish that on anyone. _Ever_. I lost my own twin brother to greed, fear and war. He had been my world. I can't see Mrs. Pettigrew live through the same heartache."

I stopped my ranting. Daniel's expressions changed almost instantly. And then, I saw where Hawkeye got this high-strung emotion from. It was always transformed once the fog in the mirrors had cleared. Daniel had calmed down and smiled.

"I see your point, Jeanie," he said calmly, humbled by this forgiveness for the neighbor. He offered his hand to help me stand. When I took it, he continued. "I'll help you to your room. Get some sleep. I'll stay up and wait for Hawkeye's call."

I wanted to dispute it. I was more than willing to keep vigil. But Daniel was right. After an ordeal like this, sleep and warmth was preferable. For the second time that night, I let another man take the lead. Unlike Eddie though, Daniel was attentive. He checked me up and down several times on our trip upstairs before I slipped into the bedroom. He remained in the closed doorway, listening for me as I changed into some pajamas. Once I was in bed and tucked in with the lights out, he left.

I was wide awake though. I couldn't sleep. From the insane emotions I felt leaving with Hawkeye to the drama in the ocean, this night had been a memorable one. It also gave me some insight into Jake. Eddie's words rolled in my head. Jake lost everything, he said. But his daughter had run away when the fighting started. There was a chance that she was alive still.

I sat up in bed and turned on the lamp next to me. Of course, it was too late to call Greg Keller and ask for a favor. As far as I am aware, he was still in England and working to see what happened to Flagg after his plane went down. Granted, it might cost me. Greg had been kind to me in Korea and repaid me most of what he owed me in West Germany. This would be a tall order and I would have to repay _him_.

Bored, I sought to keep my mind busy while Daniel waited for the call. My journal was downstairs in my room. Any games or bottle of booze were also on the first floor. Frustrated, I dug through my footlocker and found a worn romance novel Margaret gave to me before we left Korea. I had read it through several times and could recite the plot and character dialogue by heart. But it was a distraction and one I desperately required.

 _Just wanted to by myself.  
Hey, you said you would  
Love to try some.  
Hey, you said you would  
Love to die some.  
You're the wave, you're the wave._

 _Swallowed, borrowed,  
Heavy about everything  
But my love…  
Swallowed, hollowed,  
Sharp about everyone  
But yourself.  
Swallowed, oh, no,  
I'm with everyone and yet not.  
I'm with everyone and you're not.  
I'm with everyone and yet…_

Time rolled slowly. Dawn came through my window with reluctance. I had not heard anything in my hours of observance. I put the book down. I was almost finished with it anyway. I thought about getting up and brewing some coffee. I was going to dismiss it when I heard the phone ring. I jumped up and tossed the tome to one side aimlessly. Pulling my kimono on, I raced down the stairs to pick it up.

Daniel beat me to it of course. Standing in the corner, I saw that he was smiling, which seemed to be a good sign. He was nodding constantly too. He noticed me and waved me away to the kitchen.

I went gladly. Tightening the belt on the kimono, I banged about the kitchen with glee. I knew that the call was from Hawkeye. Larry was going to be all right.

* * *

 **A few notes, as always. Lyrics are from the Bush song "Swallowed". Another is about the Bonus Army. They did march to DC in 1932 and were dispersed in violent ways. While some deaths were reported, more were injured.**


	12. Comforts

Hawkeye wasn't expected back from Portland until later that afternoon. In the meantime, life had to continue like nothing had happened. I had Shannon for the day and Daniel had plans to meet with Mrs. Pettigrew after breakfast. I didn't feel up to going into the town to face the locals, so I stayed home and made due.

My daughter expected the usual antics and was disappointed when Daddy wasn't home to see her. But she took to me just fine. I wasn't too spectacular about getting her dressed and washed and made the affair seem less bright than Hawkeye did. Breakfast went off without a problem and we were soon playing with her dolls. Daniel had pulled out a wooden house and placed it in the living room for Shannon before departing for Portland. I wasn't upset that he was leaving. My only discomfort was playing pretend with a bunch of items I had chopped into pieces as a child.

Shannon wasn't too concerned about my past actions. She liked that I was with her. "Mommy goes to bed," she said to begin the game. "Daddy reads a paper…"

The female head was on her side on a bed on the roof. There wasn't a male doll, so we utilized with another female that was naked (putting clothes on that one was met with cries from Shannon). The "baby" was in her cradle upstairs, taking a nap. The other girl child my daughter added was in the yard, swinging on her set made of blocks and string.

It was an interesting tale nonetheless. Shannon had a story for each person and had me follow along or act out some parts. I wasn't too good at it, but I tried to add in some other plots to the twist without making too much drama. She liked it, but she bored of it after a few hours and preferred coloring. I grabbed some paper and crayons and allowed her the table.

I was glad too. The mail had arrived and I desired a break more than anything else. A child's world had never been my forte. Present occupation the exception, I never really had a girlhood that included hours of sewing, dresses and cooking. Mine had been spent with the adult activities and boyish pursuits.

Oddly enough, the stack at the post was huge and our box bulged with paper. There were the bills and the bank statements, which I expected. Inside, I piled those into separate piles on a side table, as Daniel instructed me to. But there were also items addressed to me and Hawkeye and they weren't official paperwork from some institution or another. They were letters…and all of them from the people we knew in Korea!

Excited, I started pulling out which ones were mine and tossed the others for Hawkeye to another side of the same table. Some were from Lorraine and her children. But BJ, Klinger and Margaret had been kind enough to write something to all of us. A "Doctor and Mrs. Pierce" even got something from a "Master Charles" too (something I'm sure was going to be interesting). Suddenly, my life was more colorful than Shannon's pictures.

I sat on the couch and picked through which ones I wanted to savor first. Of course, Lorraine's was going to be full of admonishment, mostly about my mother. She would be last. Margaret's missive was smaller than most and would be filled with maybe some love or gossip. She was first. BJ and Klinger would have news of their new postwar lives, so they remained in the middle.

I sat near Shannon and pulled apart Margaret's envelope with my longest nail. The single page unfolded neatly in my hands. My eyes scanned it and saw that she was in Seattle, Washington. Intrigued, I read on.

 _Dearest Jeanie,_

 _I cannot describe to you what it means to be away from Korea. I know it's been some weeks since the peace talks and since we broke up the camp, but I am finding that everyday is a new wonder without it. Life in the States is something I had not expected. Luckily, the Army was kind enough to take my unique request and set me up someplace in the city, away from my father and everything I knew._

 _It is interesting to be somewhere nobody knows me. I have a new lease on life here in Seattle. There is no longer a past that follows me. No men openly approach me with offers. I am not "Hot Lips". I am free here, to be Margaret Houlihan._

 _Currently, I have been working at Fort Lewis. I travel down from Seattle daily. Sometimes, I spend the night there. It depends on the hospital. Mostly, I am working in the burn ward. We have several soldiers fresh from Korea. It's been difficult to see and to remember that._

 _But I am hoping to remain here. I do not want to move anymore. I need the Army, but not at the expense of my life. If I am meant to be a civilian, I'll take the discharge. I do not want to be at someone's beck and call anymore. Being a nurse and a woman taught me more than independence. It also brought about change, in life and perspective. I never thought that I would lessen my attacks with regulations or that I would have friends who cared for me._

 _I do want to work as a "big city" hospital nurse. That is my one hope. I don't expect to remain in the Army for much longer. I have accepted that I will not make it to Lieutenant Colonel. But that no longer is my ambition. Being Margaret Houlihan is my sole purpose. I should work on her more often._

 _I honestly hope that this finds you well, Jeanie. I am glad that you now have your daughter with you. The excitement of seeing her and having a new family must be the luckiest break in your life. I wish you all the best –_

 _Margaret_

I found that I was holding my breath reading this letter. I was amazed by its emotion and abrupt ending. Margaret managed to work with the Army and found a place that did not tailor to her baggage. I knew how hard her past as "Hot Lips" Houlihan tailed after her at the 4077th. I could not count the officers that catered to their needs by asking her favors. Then again, she had used them too.

But for her, the war will continue for a tad longer. She was working with the men coming back from the action and that was upsetting enough. The tight handwriting was a little shaky when she mentioned it. It probably accounted for the shortness of the letter as well. Margaret was tough, but she never hid the fact that she also was scared.

I could not imagine her continuing pain. I most certainly would not be able to handle a place that reminded me of Korea. But for the time being, Margaret was busy doing the things she loves and is anxious about the next step in her life. It sounded like she was happy and waiting for her next career move. Soon though, she'll be onto her next assignment. Knowing her, it would have to be the challenge she wanted – to be a civilian.

I was about to open BJ's letter when there was a knock on the door. I was annoyed. I thought it was another resident with a medical problem. There was a note on the door that everybody was supposed to go to the clinic in Belfast or to the hospital in Portland if they had issues. I wasn't expecting any visitors and did not wish them.

Huffing, I got up and answered the door. I was ready with a speech before I glanced at the stranger. It was going to be firm. Hawkeye and I were not ready to receive anybody in the back rooms still. Directions to the appropriate facilities will be repeated.

My visitor ended up being Jake.

"May I come in?" he asked quietly.

I was floored. "I –I – I suppose," I stuttered. I moved to one side.

Jake entered with his head down and remained stationary until I closed the door and motioned him to the living room couch. I offered him coffee and some leftover pastries from this morning's breakfast. He declined the food, but accepted the beverage. I went into the kitchen and brought him a black portion, cream and sugar balanced in my other arm. I did a second trip for my own cup. I never mind having seconds.

While Shannon continued her coloring calmly, I sat next to Jake. I didn't know what to say to him though. He too was awkward, the way he took his coffee silently and began the ritual of tasting it until he added the right amount of ingredients. It reminded me of the many nights in the Mess Tent. All of us would grab something from the urn and dare to use as much powdered items as we could to make it taste better and wake us up.

He was different from that. Jake seemed to have been the type of solider that took coffee as a prized item and used it sparingly. Indeed, he had added as little as possible to the cup, leaving it a dark brown color. It reminded me so much of Dean and his men that I bit my lip. I had to keep myself from crying.

Jake finally settled on the perfect taste and nodded at me. He placed the containers on the table before us. "Thank you, Mrs. Pierce."

"Jeanie," I corrected. I twisted my fingers together, enough that my knuckles went white. "You can call me Jeanie."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said instead. "You're still an officer at heart, if I may say so."

"I beg your pardon?" I didn't find it rude of Jake to state the obvious. I was confounded that he dove right into the only link we had. I shook my head. "Jake, you don't need to treat me like a superior officer. Those days are done now."

"Yes, Ma'am. Of course. I just wanted to come by and see how you were doing."

I was touched. "I am well, I suppose. I was hoping that you were the same."

He nodded. "I am more concerned about Larry there. His grandmother will be lost without him."

"I'm sure he'll be fine. He's young."

"You're right. He's very lucky, Ma'am. It could have been worse."

I felt that this was small talk. We were going around in circles. Jake came here for a reason other than checking in. He was feeling some ground, to see where he stood with us. His stance was skittish though. He was so used to following orders that being in the presence of someone who commanded (even if I was like a lax chicken) made him small. He could not be himself without those who served with him.

"Our lives could have been worse," I volunteered, steering the conversation elsewhere.

He stopped and set his coffee down next to the sugar bowl. "Yes, it could have been worse. We came out alive, Ma'am. And we have to be thankful for that. Many people did not come home."

I almost lost it there. He was right. Many, _many_ people did not follow us. I could name dozens, maybe hundreds if I counted the wounded. Jake knew more. Again, Dean came to mind. My brother was six months, _six damned months_ , from seeing life after a war. He survived Germany only to find Korea his grave and all because of his commanding officer. Coner received his just desserts with the noose, but it did not bring back my twin.

It didn't bring anybody back either. Revenge was bitter indeed. It was a rough pill to swallow.

Briefly, I noticed Jake's sadness and fought to keep my composure once more. He watched me rearrange my face so that I did not show him my anguish. There was no need for him to see that. He was a comfort, yes, but he also did not need to give me strength. He was not a pillar.

Jake quickly finished his drink in two gulps. "Thank you, Mrs. Pierce," he said. "I'll come by later."

"Anytime," I replied. I showed him out.

Once Jake had left and Shannon and I were once more immersed in our private world, I allowed myself to slide against the door. My emotions ranged from relief to sadness to gratitude. I could grasp each one and the next would take over just as stalwartly. Eddie misled me a little when he said that Jake never liked leaving me to do the heavy work. The strongest notion was that Jake was a sort of guardian angel.

Shannon did not seem to have listened in on our conversation, but did eye me sitting there like a fool. Smiling at her, I stood up and walked over to see her creations. She was proud to display her scribbles. I complimented her on each one, all the while racking my brain. My to-do list grew larger and it wasn't just getting used to living in Crabapple Cove. There was some payback.

After lunch, Hawkeye walked in. Shannon had just been put down for her nap when he slammed himself in. He threw his coat and shoes onto the floor and would have stomped upstairs had I not rushed down with a finger to my lips. He met me on the bottom step and kissed it away until our lips met several times.

"Interesting day at the office?" I asked in between our hunger for each other.

"Larry is fine," Hawkeye replied. He stopped kissing. "Still unconscious. Dad will be back with Mrs. Pettigrew soon."

I found myself in need of Hawkeye and wanted to continue. "Anything else?" I reached over and picked off where we left off.

"Job…position…secured," he managed to say as we continued our assault on each other's mouths. "More…to…follow…later."

I didn't hear the rest of the details. I missed him so much that I didn't care about his job yet. Hawkeye had picked me up and carried me to the couch. I let out an uncharacteristic screech as he dropped me and jumped on top of me. When we heard Shannon move above our heads, we lowered the volume and began to compose ourselves. His Dad was expected back anytime too.

"I feel like we're in the Supply Room and Colonel Potter caught us," I mentioned.

"Or that Charles wanted the Swamp all to himself," Hawkeye added.

We soon were sitting side-by-side, almost as chaste and quiet as nuns praying in a church. Soon, Hawkeye's hand crept over to my thigh, massaging itself higher and higher. I swatted it away. He stopped for a moment and then began his ministrations for a second time. I repeated my action and so did he. There was no winning this game.

"Oh, Hawkeye," I sighed, pushing him against the arm of the couch.

And that was how Daniel found us. I was about to hike up my dress and pull down Hawkeye's pants when my father-in-law rushed up the porch stairs and opened the door. Immediately, I undid my actions and was presentable. Hawkeye was not so quick. He sat up all right, but it was after Daniel came through and eyed us. My father-in-law raised an eyebrow and said nothing. He had heard of our drunken episodes before (and all of them conducted here quite mild compared to Korea). This was nothing.

He changed the topic. "We have an unusual amount of mail today."

"Oh, mostly letters for us," I chatted back.

Hawkeye's interested was piqued. "What kind of letters?" he asked.

"From people we know," I replied with a wink. "I didn't get the chance to tell you."

"I wonder why," Daniel mentioned sarcastically as he hung his coat in the closet. He picked up Hawkeye's too.

Hawkeye and I exchanged somewhat embarrassed looks. This was new. The discussion would have to be for later though. Letters were more exciting. I retrieved Hawkeye's and we began reading them together, sharing what had been written and laughing all the way. By the time we finished, Shannon was awake. Hawkeye went upstairs to retrieve her while I cleaned up the aftermath of our little party.

Daniel had been watching me. While we were enjoying ourselves, he had been fluttering in and out of the living room. He did notice how we lit up as we recounted each person's words and the disappointment we shared when it ended. It had been the first time we truly had relaxed since coming home. To him, it might be a key. We had been defensive and lost. This had changed it.

He sat down next to me as I finished up. "Good news?"

I froze. "I suppose so," I replied. "It's good to hear from the people we care for."

"I see."

And there were those words again! It was maddening to hear them. I kept my tongue though. The last time, he meant well. He still does. Daniel's meaning of love meant discovering and understanding, I noted. This was his way of being nosy.

"I hope to see them soon," I volunteered. "Maybe next year or the year after, we can get together. You've met their families."

"They're a…well, an unusual bunch. I do love them. I hope I will feel the same for the people you served with in Korea."

"There wouldn't be a lot of room for everyone."

"Oh, I think the space can be made. New York was a long trip and worth it. But it isn't big enough to hold us again. I think seeing a piece of home in everyone is the key."

I liked the idea. "Once we have an answer, we'll let you know. Come with us. I'm sure you'll like dancing with Mrs. Potter again."

Daniel laughed. "She instigated the last one."

Hawkeye interrupted our conversation when he arrived with Shannon. He wordlessly handed her to me and began a discussion with his Dad about something quietly. They even moved to the dining room, away from us, to talk about it. They peeked over at me and Shannon constantly though. It was disconcerting.

Uncomfortable, I decided that enough was enough. I wanted to be out of sight and away from everyone except for my daughter. Today, I was going to introduce her to my private space and have her play in the room while I worked. I had some numbers to crunch anyway. Daniel had handed over the money I sent him and I wanted to go over the bank accounts before handing it over to Hawkeye for a second glance.

I picked up some toys and my bank statements while Shannon was in my arms and walked over, unlocking it and letting her in. I turned the overhead light on and shut the door behind me. While I did note a slight uneasiness with Hawkeye and his Dad, I ignored it. I wanted Shannon in my world for a few precious hours. They can stay out.

My daughter was confused. She had not been in this part of the house before. She took to it quickly though. I didn't have as much space as the living room, but she found a spot on the floor for her toys. Her dolls were now out and about, on a resort or something silly like that (she used the leftover boxes I had for buildings). Shannon had an imagination that could rival my mother's religious ramblings. Sitting down, I hoped that Shannon did not grow up like Mom.

For an hour, I tried to make sense of the balances and what the Army sent and what Daniel had spent for the house, bills and Shannon's care. It eventually gave me a headache. I set down the paperwork and glanced out the window. The room faced our other neighbors and hardly had a glimpse of the ocean. I was not disappointed by the view though. A storm was coming. An interesting mix of clouds made it an intriguing show.

I contemplated writing in my journal as the rain came. I was so full of energy that I had to get it out somehow. I thought twice about it and declined. My head hurt already and I wasn't going to make my hands cramp writing in some book of thoughts that came from Korea to here. Besides, so much had happened today that I couldn't possibly sit still for that long.

Instead, I sat down next to Shannon and listened to her story since it involved me moving several times. Occasionally, she handed me one of the toys and told me where to put it or had me say a line. I continued this route once more, ignoring the loud banging on the windowpanes outside. There was another on my mind anyway.

Here I was, sitting in my own room with my daughter, and the truth was smacking us in the face. There was so much of the past and who I was that she could be hurt. I was not ready to talk to her about all of this, much else show Hawkeye. Pieces of my heart had been scattered into tiny shards. She did not realize it yet since she was so young and innocent.

I resolved to wait until Shannon was older before answering any questions. Right now, sitting with her in my oblivious memories was the best remedy to a day like this. Larry was far from my thoughts. Hawkeye and his Dad were a world apart. Mrs. Pettigrew hardly lapsed in there too. It was just me and Shannon….and that was all I ever wanted. Ever since Korea, I had been dreaming of spending time with her and have achieved it.

It had been a high cost to pay, but the price had been worth it. As the clock ticked closer to dinner, these racing thoughts intensified into resolutions. I did not think it wise to bring my daughter here often. But it had been worth it to be in the same room as the past and future.

 _Oh, Dean, if you could see us now…_


	13. Bouncing Back

The autumn was fierce. October dragged in tedious rainy days. The sands turned into a sticky pit and we couldn't step out from the porch most days. The car didn't like slugging through the thickly coated roads, slicked with either water or the gritty grains, and Daniel would often have to push it out with our help. Around us, schoolchildren lost umbrellas more than once. Brave walkers braced against the sea wind and assisted us.

Even Shannon was bored, cooped up inside all day. I had a difficult time keeping up with her and disciplining through her tears. It was a learning experience though. I tried being in her shoes and found that I had a breaking point through the understanding. Within weeks, I was able to see the difference between her petulance and her frustration. Soon, we found a pattern, better than what Daniel implemented, and we sought each other's company constantly.

Other than Shannon, the best part of these days was the letters and calls. Throughout this month, we received so many of them that our heads spun. Shannon was thoroughly irritated with us as each new contact brought us a little more joy. It wasn't that Hawkeye and I sidelined her and did not love her. We thought that our own comfort was important too and could not resist taking that one more call or reading one more paragraph and including her when we could. She was used to being the center of attention and despised it all.

We learned that Colonel Potter was the happiest so far. He had managed to go the slow discharge route and came home in early September. He was welcomed back by his wife, but was soon weary of bridge games and cleaning. I predicted that he would soon find himself something to keep him occupied via the military. Hawkeyed agreed.

"He can't just chase dust bunnies either," he commented one afternoon while Shannon was napping. "Sherman Potter was meant for something more."

"Like what? Commanding the kitchen?" I joked. I was scanning his letter to me and was startled to read about his dead bridge partner. I kept that to myself though. "Mrs. Potter will keep him busy, I'm sure."

"Don't you think that he'll find some VA job? He would be more competent than Frank Burns."

"Well, if he feels up to the task, I'm sure he will. Those places are not meant for cleanliness. If he did, he'll whip it back into shape."

Hawkeye conceded. He then proceeded to curl up against me, pretending to read over my shoulder. I found it annoying at first. I realized what he wanted. I put the letter down and met his lips with mine. My father-in-law was not home anyway and the doors were locked and the window blinds down. Nobody was going to see us and our daughter would have been up in the hour.

Hiding our sexual misadventures had been the highlight of our time in Korea. Being in Maine was no exception and had a different set of rules we both enjoyed to make and break. But that was another story. Details don't seem so important when it comes to our time together.

BJ was in the middle. The man who desired his family more than anything else found that, although his wife and daughter were a balm, he still could not dispel his anger. He felt hurt that he could not provide for his family and sought to correct it. A few months after arriving home, he managed to find a job. Because of his experiences in Korea though, he was not allowed the position, power and pay of a full-time surgeon. He was part time and on call.

"This is unfair," Hawkeye complained as he told me the contents. "It's unheard of. Why would someone hire BJ and only call him when he's needed? He should be at the hospital."

"Well, he _did_ say that he was," I mentioned, pointing out that correction in the middle of the page. "He has a small office. But he has less than twenty hours a week of work."

"While his wife works two jobs," Hawkeye countered bitterly as he read the next section to himself. There was an undertone of guilt in there too, almost like he should be doing the same thing and wasn't yet.

I kissed him. "Hawkeye, I'm sure someone will see BJ's worth. I mean, people here see yours. You're very trusted."

Hawkeye harrumphed. This was not a topic he liked. I was going to change it, but he got there first. There was Klinger's single letter next. While he and Soon-Lee usually called (static and all) from Pusan, this little treasure was amusing. Although Klinger was upset about not going home, he was worse learning that the Army was going to hold him over the end of the year. There was something about a contract in there. Klinger could not negotiate anything.

 _And there I was, hoping to hell that I would be able to run to Toledo, and the Army whams me with another obstacle! I fought through that course. They said that after December 31 (whether or not we found Soon-Lee's parents), they'd clear me and her to leave. They might even help with her parents coming to the States if they're found. But NO!_

It went on and on from there. Klinger was pissed that another brick wall had been placed and he had to climb it in style. While we were both sure that he would find a way over, there was also no stopping the Army from keeping Klinger. Sure, he was wonderful as a grunt. He was also yearning to be free of those chains and go home to Toledo. He had spent so much time and energy doing it that it would be a waste for Klinger to languish with the Army.

Charles wasn't much of a writer or caller. In written form, he did send his "fondest greetings" to us about a month after he reached Boston. He was also very busy and regretted not sending anything sooner. However, we should expect invitations and such in the future, when the season comes. Hawkeye and I were also surprised to read that Charles extended this summons to Daniel and Shannon as well.

"Well, well, well," Hawkeye exclaimed. "The Boston Blue Blood has wallowed so low that we no longer seem so repulsive to him."

"War has a way to change people," I said. But this was an understatement. I didn't think Hawkeye knew about the Chinese musicians.

Others had reached out to us too. Various nurses and orderlies we knew sent a small paragraph or two. Sidney did as well. Most had been so busy, Radar most of all. He had been working nights at the general store and days on the farm, even with the help. Others were kind of lazy. Kellye had returned home to Hawaii and was basking in the sun before going back to work. She said that she'll possibly visit next year.

Father Mulcahy and his sister also came to mind. While the Padre sounded a little more down than his usual tipsy self, his sister Kathy was a delight. I recalled her short tenure in Korea and smiled with each call. But there was concern with her too. Father Mulcahy did not seem a well man after becoming deaf.

Hawkeye wondered why too, ignorant of this knowledge. "I never knew him to be so depressed before," he commented one evening after Shannon went to bed. He and I had been talking about the Padre and his last call.

Daniel had been reading the newspaper silently nearby. "Knew… _who_?" he inquired gently from behind the pages.

"Oh, someone in Korea," Hawkeye replied dismissively.

"The chaplain," I added.

"Priests and ministers have a breaking point too," Daniel pointed out. He lowered the newspaper. "They're trained not to. But I would assume that something broke him."

I was quiet. I knew what it was. I was hiding nearby when BJ told Father Mulcahy that he had gone deaf. When the priest had begged BJ not to tell anyone, I vowed the same. Even there, in the safety of my home, I would not whisper those words. It wasn't my business to.

"It wasn't Korea," Hawkeye argued. "It did and it didn't. Father Mulcahy focused on results, not the tragedies."

"He was a pillar of strength," I continued flatly. "He'll find a way."

That was what I fervently wished. I recalled that Father Mulcahy used to drink a lot. He tempered it long before Korea. But after such an unselfish action turned vile, I could not blame the Padre for turning back to alcohol. Even though we had been, it's been steadily less. Hawkeye was worse than I was, but that too was yet another story for another day.

And _then_ , in all of this madness, there was Margaret. She continued to be a little mysterious. While her initial missives were hopeful, others came up with tears of frustration, page rips of rage or delightful perfume smells. She talked about the end of her Army tenure and how delightful it was to be almost back to normal. She was hopeful for her soldiers and how splendidly they recovered. Korea was slowly becoming a memory for them as well as for her.

One letter, she described a man she accidentally bumped into recently, somebody named Keith O'Brien. He too had been assigned to Korea. Although he was not on the rotating schedules as we were, he still connected with Margaret. She sounded hesitant about him though. She wanted to remain friends with him for now. She was unsure of how she felt about him.

 _Memories of Frank and Donald plague me. I cannot run into a relationship like that again. I do fervently wish that Keith was the one though. He seems so pleasant and attentive. Why, just the other night, he invited me to dinner…and cooked for me in his apartment! How sweet is that, Jeanie?!_

I never shared with this tidbit with Hawkeye. He learned about Keith, but never gained more information past that. Any details about Margaret can and will be used against her and I wasn't going to be the one to share them. Besides, she never wrote to Hawkeye except in the most innocent of terms because of this reason. The most scandalous I picked up was her joke that she enjoyed their kiss. She then proceeded to analyze it in such a way that even Hawkeye was annoyed and crumbled the paper into a ball.

By Halloween, we had told enough stories and shared enough laughs that Daniel was pleased. He had met the families and was happy to know their loved ones through us too. He was especially happy to learn that everyone wanted to come to Crabapple Cove for a reunion. Radar had suggested it and dates started floating around. The morning I was finishing up Shannon's princess costume was when Hawkeye answered calls from everyone and came to consult with me.

He came upstairs to Shannon's room just as I put in the last stitch. Shannon was thrilled about the candy she was going to receive and how cute she was in her costume. She squealed in delight when she twirled her pink dress. I was surprised that she remained so still during the process and that I was still so skilled at making clothes. I was more so when Hawkeye leaned into the doorway. He crossed his arms and smiled at the spectacle.

"Are you ready for company for a month?" he asked me as Shannon jumped against me, begging for her tights and shoes.

"What?" I removed the last of the pins from my mouth and managed to keep Shannon immobile. "Who's coming for a month?"

"Friends and foes alike, from all over the country –"

"Hawkeye, who are we looking at?"

He laughed. "Radar and his mother maybe. BJ and his family. The honorable former Colonel and Mrs. Potter."

"The whole gang, you mean?"

"Yes," he said with delight. He beamed. "Dad is excited."

"How many can we fit in the house?" I was worried now. This was a huge house, but it could not hold a whole camp. "I mean, I know there are motels and Eddie can put up a few people."

"We can manage," Hawkeye reassured me. "They're not all coming at once."

"Well, we've got some planning to do then." My head was spinning and I was feeling dizzy, enough that I wanted to lay down. I resisted the urge. "If we have Klinger and Zale, we're going to need to keep them on opposite ends of the property and not tell the other they're here. If Frank comes, then Margaret cannot be here. And Charles and Colonel Potter reconciled. We don't need to put them in separate corners."

Hawkeye nodded. "More later. When will our princess be ready for her subjects?"

"Now! Now! Now!" Shannon clamored. She held her arms up to Hawkeye.

"Oh, who could resist?" Hawkeye reached for her and swung her into his arms. He also stuck his tongue out at me. "Jeanie, the other kids should be out by six. Do you think an hour should be fine?"

I had to think. For the past two months, I had been relying on Daniel for help. Nobody had asked me for my personal opinion about Shannon and only recently had I managed to control her on my own. This was the first time that we decided to act as parents…and it made me a little giddy.

 _Maybe we're getting the hang of this._

Nodding, I said, "One hour and no more. Think you can handle that?"

"Of course!" Hawkeye kissed Shannon and tickled her. "Who's Daddy's little girl?"

And off they went, with Hawkeye chanting and Shannon giggling. The morning was new and we had some things to do before the pair went off trick or treating later that night. I decided that breakfast wasn't such a bad idea after all. However, that dizzy spell got me worried. I would have chalked it up to my nerves had I not suddenly had the urge to throw up.

I was up quickly. Before I knew it, I was kneeling before the porcelain hole and vomiting nothing but acid. A few minutes later, I hardly felt better. My stomach rolled over and I was soon retching again. It felt like I had been drinking all night and this was my body's revenge. The thing was, I hadn't been partying that much lately. Sure, Hawkeye and I down a few glasses a night (sometimes a bottle or two) and we only toasted the endless dirty laundry and the power flickering on and off the night before. This wasn't it.

It lasted until I heard Hawkeye at the bottom of the stairs. I hadn't realized that it had been ten minutes and they were all waiting for me downstairs. Even Daniel was cajoling me. He threatened to drag me down and tie me to the chair the way I had been busy these days. Sewing a masterpiece for my daughter had been a nightmare and this impression seemed to be a joke to my father-in-law.

"I'll be out in a second!" I called out calmly. I pulled the toilet chain and sat up, testing the waters.

Yes, I was ok. My stomach wasn't perfect. The prospect of food wasn't a cheerful one. But I had to put on a mask. Three people downstairs depended on me to be strong. This wasn't a one-time shot. I've been through this before and I knew that this illness was going to change us all.

Getting up slowly, I washed my hands. I looked up to the mirror to ensure that I was perfect and that nothing happened between Hawkeye and Shannon leaving and now. My reflection showed a slight redness to the cheeks. My eyes had watered a little and mucus ran down my nostrils. I didn't appear great, but there was no cause for alarm. Nobody had to know this secret yet.

Hawkeye was at the door, knocking. "Jeanie, you ok in there?"

I turned off the water. "Coming!" I said, drying my hands and face.

~00~

 _November 16, 1953  
Crabapple Cove, Maine_

 _I must say, it has been a month. Even though the past four or five weeks have been nothing but cold and boredom, some things have to be mentioned. It's been quite a while since writing and an update must be made anyway. The last time I said something was when I mentioned Hawkeye and I went out for a date. And that was something!_

 _First, I must talk about Larry. He and his friend had been out at the shore the night Hawkeye and I went out for dinner. The boat overturned and he nearly drowned. Luckily, we all helped to ring him in (well, I should say that I swam in first and had some help in form of some new friends). He stayed at the hospital in Portland for a week before coming home to his grandmother. Then, he was out of school for another week to rest. Now, he's up and his normal beaming personality._

 _Right now, he and his friends are outside, playing some music. I can hear them through the window and it's not bad. Even though it's cold outside and the rain has been relentless, those boys are just as stubborn. I swear, they'll catch the death of them! Even Mrs. Pettigrew has her breaking point. Even though I have not spoken to her in some time, I still hear her screeches. What a bitch!_

 _And yes, she does still bother me‼ Mrs. Pettigrew will NEVER be received by me again if I can help it. I will be polite and civil. I always greet her when we cross paths. But I will NEVER be tested like that again. I have learned my lesson._

 _Anyway, enough of that! Next is Hawkeye. And what can I say about the man I love? Well, only that I am worried about him. He went back to work! On Halloween, he announced to Daniel that he was returning to the clinic and that they accepted him. So, the pair will go in the mornings. Daniel will return at his normal time and pick Hawkeye up when he's released in the late afternoon._

 _It's been about a week since he's started. So far, Hawkeye is enjoying it. He has been coming home tired, but elated. It's a victory in our book. He thought he wasn't going to be ready to treat patients again and he was a nervous wreck about it. Now, he's sitting at the dinner table, relating tales of woe and wonder. Daniel counters with some of his own and the two are bantering and bouncing ideas off of each other._

 _It means a great many more things. Hawkeye is drinking less and less. The nightmares never abate, but keeping his mind off of Korea and alcohol is wonderful. It equates to healing. In my book, I cannot be anything but pleased. If Hawkeye can move forward and take solace in his work, so can I._

 _This means that I am in control of the back exam rooms and Shannon. It leaves me a great responsibility. Other than my daughter, I too have a focus. We're open for business once more. In doing so, I realized that I have to face Crabapple Cove too…but by my own terms. The scandalous wife who shops and smiles at everyone also holds the keys. I set up the hours and have kicked out people who did not oblige._

 _And that's the power I crave. Seeing the look on people's faces when I say no? It's wonderful! I cannot begin to describe it! This is the first time in a long time I am able to keep on a straight path and never veer off. Otherwise, I like the peace and quiet a housewife has. Even having my daughter is a joy._

 _Another stress is the holidays. Thanksgiving is only ten days away and it's going to be my first one in the States (as a civilian) since I was seventeen. All of Hawkeye's family is coming. His cousin Dolly is expected to show tomorrow, to help me prepare the meal and to meet me. I am so nervous! This is the first time I will be handling so many of my new in-laws. I only hope they love me as much as Hawkeye and Daniel do._

 _Hell, I sure wish they do. There's going to be more to love soon enough. I have not told Daniel and Hawkeye yet, but I think I'm pregnant._


	14. A New Prison Sentence

It was early in the morning, two days before Thanksgiving. Daniel and Hawkeye already went to the clinic and the exam rooms were not opening for a few more hours. I was washing the breakfast dishes to pass some time before Hawkeye's cousin Dolly showed up to help me. Shannon had set up her smaller tables and chairs in the kitchen with me and had decided to play pretend house as I cleaned. She placed her dolls in each seat and talked to them like they were her guests. Every now and then, as I waltzed past them, she would adjust a figure and move them to eat or drink.

As she played though, my mind raced. I was _so_ anxious about the new baby. There was no doubt in my mind that I was pregnant. I experienced morning sickness, enough that I got up early so that nobody saw it. My body felt like a bloated balloon and my feet took the biggest hit. I was constantly dizzy and could not run fast. Food was revolting and the worst of feeling was in the morning when I made it.

What was an exciting event was also a nightmare in some ways. It wasn't that I was ready to abort this child like I wanted to with Shannon. I most certainly didn't feel the same dangers like in Korea. I was worried. Hawkeye had just begun working at the clinic again. He was so carefree and did not have a weight on his shoulders for once. I wanted to wait some time before telling him and his Dad. This period of adjustment needed to last as long as possible and telling my husband that I was pregnant again might shatter his plans.

It was a dangerous game. By now, I should have been seeing a doctor. Because we were home now, I couldn't without Hawkeye's consent anyway. I mean, the Army offered me freedom that a civilian world did not give me. There were a lot of things restricted to women. I should feel lucky that Daniel and Hawkeye allow me many freedoms and would turn a blind eye to my actions or cover for me. But in this instance and without invoking their help, I hope that I could last to Christmas.

That was when I wanted to tell everyone. It would be the best Christmas gift anybody could ask for. I needed the time to think too, from now to then. I mean, I had my own wartime demons to contend with. I wasn't perfect. I still drank to my heart's content until recently. But in the weeks leading up to this great day, I wished for the time to be for me and Shannon and her new sibling. For the first time, we were truly alone and bonding and I wanted to feel that I could do the same for this baby too.

When the last dish was deposited to dry, I heard the doorbell ring. I was sure it was Dolly. Shannon must have sensed the same thing. She rushed to the door, singing a wordless song all the way, and waited until I was with her to address our visitor. When the cold air greeted us, Shannon squealed.

"Dolly!" she yelled. "Dolly, Dolly, Dolly!"

I backed away to allow this older woman to enter. She was as she appeared in all of the pictures Hawkeye had. She was tall, with greying black hair and piercing blue eyes, maybe aged in her early forties. Her aura was gentle and full of strength. Effortlessly, this woman scooped Shannon up and showered her with kisses.

"Who's been a perfect little princess for Grandpa?" Dolly asked her.

"Me, me, me!" my daughter replied.

The two continued their endearments for a few more minutes. I closed the door and tried sneaking off. I didn't feel so welcome. Again, the feelings of my first night here came back. Here was this person who knew my daughter long before I came home from Korea and their picture was complete together. I was the stranger, the person out in left field who had no place except in isolation. Hurt, I proceeded to find a duster to use when Dolly put a hand on my shoulder. I turned to face her.

"You must be Jeanie," she said calmly. "I'm Dolly, Hawkeye's cousin."

I tried smiling and put the feathery item down. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"I've been…well, _traveling_ …before you came home," Dolly explained, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm sorry I haven't been here. I know it was tough."

I choked back some words. Sarcasm was at the tip of my tongue. That last sentence was the understatement of the year. Being in Crabapple Cove was calming, but it was very tough dealing with the locals. I enjoyed Eddie and his friends. Mrs. Pettigrew's drama was enough to make me scream. Her church group (who often came by to bother me for an exam or to set up an appointment) was a nightmare. While they made up more than half the population of the small town, their morbid curiosity was enough.

"It's been nice," I lied casually. "I've met some interesting people."

Dolly regarded me carefully. "Why don't we go to the kitchen?" she suggested. Her shoulders motioned to Shannon behind her. "We can talk alone."

I was terrified at the prospect of leaving my daughter alone. Since being here, she had been with one of the adults. Now, Dolly was recommending that Shannon remain by herself? I couldn't bear it.

Shannon didn't seem to mind. With Dolly nearby, she was confident that all will be well. Immediately, she went to the kitchen and brought out most of her dolls and left behind the table and chairs. She placed them in the wooden house and continued her game. Dolly and I were free.

Cautious, I followed her. Dolly was a frequent guest of the house and seemed awkward with me. She seemed to dance to a familiar pattern, but was holding back because she didn't want to seem forward with me. Until we faced each other near the sink, she was reaching for trivial things – a glass of water, some misplaced dust bunny – and stopping herself. She would look to me for permission and see nothing but my own fright. Other than Daniel, she was the only Pierce family member I've met.

"Interesting people, huh?" she began. "That's a pretty hefty description."

"They come from all sides," I argued. "From the churchgoers to the bar owners, I can't say that Crabapple Cove isn't boring."

Dolly nodded. "You've had a hard time, haven't you?"

The trusting gentleness in those blue eyes almost got me to confess everything. Dolly wasn't one of the backstabbers. But I wasn't ready to give my heart and soul to her. This was going to be a relationship I needed to ease into. She had been kind to me in the past, sending me items and love when she hadn't met me yet. I had to slowly get to know her before allowing her in.

"It's been challenging," I allowed. I felt my chest constrict and repressed the panic. "I think I am getting the hang of it."

"That's good," Dolly replied stiffly. She shuffled her feet. "Jeanie, I don't think you realize what impact you have here."

I feigned interest. "Oh?"

"I just got home, but I think I've pieced together enough to make the picture." Dolly rubbed her chin, thinking of what to say without being offensive. "So, here's comes this unknown woman, who brought a child and bought a husband, and she looks injured from the war."

"I _bought_ Hawkeye?" I wanted to laugh. "Hardly!"

Dolly put her hands up in surrender. "I know, I know. But that's not the end of the story."

"I figured as much. Go on."

"Ok. Well, this woman is shy and cannot find a place. And people wonder what kind of morals she has. Word has it that she married Hawkeye _after_ their daughter was born. That much was certain because an older doctor opened his mouth about letters to a neighbor."

"Mrs. Pettigrew."

"Right. Now, suspicion leaps forward. What kind of couple would stick together through that much and not hide this shame? It's was unheard of and people were intrigued."

"By the way people reacted on my first day out, I concluded that much. But I digress."

Dolly laughed. "Oh, you're funny. But anyway, people got their eyes full of nothing. This was an ordinary girl, home from the war. She was tough as nails. She did not speak of her experiences. It would be unladylike. Instead, she focused on her daughter and husband. Granted, they were caught drunk a few times at night, but that was nothing new. Hawkeye Pierce was always a wild one."

"We hardly went out at night. That was a handful of times and the neighbors weren't awake."

"Yes, but some of them _saw_ you. And that was good gossip. Now, back to the story. People are curious. They come by the droves and are locked out. Why? Because Hawkeye Pierce is a basket of nerves. He was a spitfire before the war. Now, he can't face anyone. His wife is no better."

" _And_? We couldn't take in people. It was too much."

"You're right. You couldn't take it. Shopping trips and such were just your staple. Allowing a community inside was not your thing. Not yet anyway. But here comes Eddie and his gang. They seem to spread a little rumor that the war was bad and that you two needed some time and space. While it was common for a few chats, it was nothing like before."

I allowed my back to rest against the refrigerator and crossed my arms. "I'm impressed. I'm also glad that we have people on our side. And you've been traveling the last few months?"

"Mainly down between Hartford and Boston," Dolly confirmed smugly. "I catch up quickly when I'm home."

"Oh, so you live here?"

"Yes, I do. My house is down the street."

"I'm sure you get all the juicy details."

"I have my informants. They're all over the place. I have a knack for picking up people."

This was becoming inane chatter. "You have not finished your story."

"No," Dolly conceded, "and I think that you should know the rest of it. I mean, it does have a…well, a turn to it that I did not expect."

This caught me in a web. It was almost like Flagg's little memos. "Oh? I didn't know there was more."

"There is," she admitted. "It has something to do with telling off an old woman and saving her grandson within a few weeks of each other. It also tells of how you've successfully allowed a recluse to open up to you. Oh, and there was putting your foot down and keeping a grip on Hawkeye."

"What? That sounds ridiculous!"

"Yes, it is ludicrous. But where one hardly succeeded, another took its place."

"What do you mean?"

Dolly regarded me like a village idiot. "Hawkeye isn't what you call the ideal husband and father, Jeanie. He's had a reputation here. Uncle Daniel hardly had any control over him. Since Aunt Annabeth and Loretta died, Hawkeye had been a loose cannon. He had no direction. When he found one, he unintentionally caused havoc on the side. His relationships come to mind. His residency in Boston was another. I had to support him many times throughout since Uncle Daniel hardly could. The only thing he seemed married to was his career.

"The war came along unexpectedly. Hawkeye thought that he was immune to being shipped away. He continued along his merry way, believing that life can go on. He had so many women in his life and couldn't seem to settle with one. He was close though and that shattered him in the end. The curveball hit him in the head and he was soon pretending to play soldier, obeying an order to chase the pain away.

"But that isn't what we saw that changed Hawkeye. It was terrible to lose him for three years. Uncle Daniel was devastated and worried about him everyday. They were so close, even after Aunt Annabeth's death, and did not take parting well. He read the news. He wasn't stupid. Uncle Daniel saw that Korea was not some walk in the park. It was war. And he was scared that Hawkeye was going to go crazy. He did a little, but he recovered."

Dolly stopped her rampage and looked at me straight in the eye. "It was because of you, Jeanie. You were his world. Whatever pieces he had been missing had been completed because of _you_. He might have come home a mess, but you were there with him and can get him through this. You may have had the same experiences, but at least he has a companion – of hope, courage and strength. And I want you to know that we all love you for taking on such a responsibility and will support you."

I was floored and speechless. "I – I – my God," I sputtered. "It wasn't like that."

"Of course not," Dolly reassured me. "You saw it differently. You noticed a handsome man, fell in love, had a baby, suffered a war. It isn't something every woman dreams of. I mean, a honeymoon during war? It's disgraceful!"

"I didn't see him first," I countered. "Hawkeye made the first move."

"I am not surprised," Dolly replied sarcastically.

"No, _really_?" I volleyed back.

"Seriously, how did it happen?"

Sarcasm aside, I smiled. I went into the story about sitting in what was Henry's office while he lectured me. It was a bold move and one that got me out of a gloom that was childish. But there was Hawkeye, bouncing at the most inopportune moment and asking me if I was some desert mirage. Henry wasn't pleased of course and kicked us all out. History was made and we were an item.

" _No_!" Dolly exclaimed, pretending to be scandalized.

"Yes!" I recalled the scene in Radar's space afterward with another grin. "It was a wonderful beginning and one I cannot regret."

Afterward, it was easy to talk with Dolly. Coffee was made and we resumed out positions. She eased into the role of confidant effortlessly and soon had me in stitches, spilling most of our drinks on the floor. By noon, Shannon was in the kitchen, begging for lunch. At that point, we realized that we wasted a whole morning and nothing was done. Thanksgiving was still two days away and the food and cleaning were not touched.

"Back to work," I groaned. I reached for some bread and Swiss cheese to make a grilled cheese sandwich.

Dolly found the bag of apples and started slicing it. "You're not much of a cook, are you?"

"I know some basic skills," I admitted. "I am getting better."

"Good. You'll need them."

"Well, we have the turkeys, potatoes from up north, corn and carrots, bread for stuffing…"

Dolly laughed again. She almost cut her finger in the process. "Oh, we'll need more than that. Company's going to be big."

And that was when I learned that Daniel's family is huge. He has two younger brothers and an older sister (one of the brothers being Dolly's father) and all of them have children and, in turn, grandchildren. Dolly's only sibling was Billy, the same cousin Hawkeye had troubles with. He had a son and wife he was bringing. The other cousins numbered nine, their children totaling twenty-six.

I did the math in my head as I finished cooking. I was facing to head a holiday dinner with nearly fifty people, including us in the immediately household. It was a staggering figure I almost fainted to hear about.

Thankfully, Dolly had a straight head. "Comes from not having any children," she joked when I mentioned it. She began a list of additional food we needed.

That required a trip to the bank to withdraw money and to the store. It looked pretty nasty outside, so we opted to drive instead of walking. Dolly volunteered her new Oldsmobile 88. Seeing the time, we fed Shannon and ate before packing ourselves into her vehicle in the driveway. I left a note on the door for everyone, stating that I was out in town if they needed anything. I hope Daniel and Hawkeye saw it if they came home early.

To be honest, I never had a better time out. Annoying bank clerks aside, Dolly was a joy to have on this trip and a wonderful help. But I also realized that, while she was distantly respected and often got her way, she was also a sort of taboo in town. While the younger girls aspired to be like her, the older crowds did not seem to like her independence. She was shunned at almost every place we went to. Save for the usual courtesies or when she pushed in, Dolly was not treated with enthusiasm.

On the way home, Shannon drifted off to sleep. We were almost home. The car was full of groceries and our minds were thinking ahead to making it into a meal. I was curious about this behavior, which was almost as vicious as mine was, and asked Dolly.

She was quiet for a moment. When she stopped at a traffic light, she was somber. "A little over twenty years ago, when I was a younger woman, I was just beginning to understand what I wanted. I grew up knowing that I was supposed to get married and have children. After graduating though, I decided not to. Fashion and making clothes had been my specialty throughout my life. I wanted to continue it.

"At the time, I frequented bars. Some women in the Depression did. It was a way to let loose, so to say, and to meet people. I had a few girlfriends that liked to listen to jazz on Saturday nights. I enjoyed the atmosphere and joined them. We would go together, have a meal at the local diner, and go home. That had been a nearly fatal mistake.

"One night, I was followed from the bar. After eating with the girls, I decided to walk to my parents' alone. I was supposed to be there in the morning anyway and my mother never minded me sleeping on the couch. I always had a change of clothes there."

Dolly choked back a sob as the light turned green. She worked the clutch and shifted into gear. "A man had been tailing me for days and had known my routine enough that he trapped me. He raped me next to the grocery store. He beat me when I screamed and nearly killed me. People saw, but they turned away. They blamed me for letting him near me. They said it was my behavior and my clothes.

"I knew that it was wrong. I tried putting the wheels of justice into action. Nothing happened. When I found out that I was pregnant with the man's child, I decided that enough was enough. Abortion was my only option. I could not go through the shame of raising a child I would view as a ghost of that horrible night. It would not be fair to me and to that baby.

"Uncle Daniel was sympathetic. He discreetly used his connections to find me a quiet place to dispose the child. He never told a soul, but my father did. He knew about it and told my mother. In turn, she tattled to her bridge club. Soon, it was around town that not only had I encouraged a man to publically have sex with me, but that I terminated an unwanted pregnancy."

The story almost had me in tears. I had my own tale of woe that was similar to Dolly's. For the moment though, it could wait. She had turned into the driveway and parked next to the Packard. Daniel was home and possibly waiting for us to unload. But there was something else Dolly wanted to say.

She grabbed my arm as I reached for the door handle. Her anguish was gone. "As women, we are subject to what is told to us. Beware though, Jeanie. Sometimes, the freedom you seek isn't the wish you desire. You just exchanged one prison cell for another. I just hope that Hawkeye sees how much you sacrificed to be here with him."

I nodded. "I hope so too."

Oddly enough, I saw Hawkeye come outside. He immediately went to the opened trunk and began taking the bags out. When I met him, Shannon sleeping in my arms, I raised my eyebrows quizzically. No words were needed. We knew how to reach each other's expressions when we did not feel we should speak out loud. Our daughter napping was reason enough.

A tilt of his head meant that he was free. I assumed that he was given vacation time and was offering to help us until he was required elsewhere. We went inside. He disappeared into the kitchen and I went upstairs to put Shannon to bed. It would be a while before she woke up for the afternoon. We had some time to begin cooking and baking if Hawkeye wasn't in the way.

All the while, I thought about Dolly's words. She was a sweet woman. She knew her mind and acted when it was necessary. But that story was horrific and it changed her perspective on life forever. It reminded me of my past troubles. We were of the same clothe, Dolly and I, and are sisters of the same club. Handled by sadists, we found our own way and continued the journey towards peace.

It was of pain and suffering nonetheless. There was hardly any light from those who were assaulted and abused. We would forever be scarred.


	15. The Looming Holidays

_November 29, 1953  
Crabapple Cove, Maine_

 _All is quiet on the Western Front now. The forty-five people that invaded this house are now gone. Dolly is going back to Boston for a show and the remaining relatives have taken their transportation home. Thanksgiving was a success despite the occasional animosity between the relations and the food was wonderful. Daniel helped in handling the people and Dolly was up at all hours with me, cooking and baking. Without them, I would have been lost._

 _There was too much to take in, these new relatives of mine. It made me yearn a little for my own family. Dean may be dead and my other brothers overseas, but my mother is out there somewhere. She has yet to be found. While this is still disconcerting (and the local law enforcement hardly working), I am finding that the evenings spent with her and Clarence had been somewhat happy. It wasn't ideal, but it was a sense of family._

 _Did I also say that they celebrated my birthday as well? I turned thirty-one exactly a week ago today. While Hawkeye and Daniel made it special and cooked for me and got me flowers, I demanded nothing else and continued like it was another normal day, despite their protests._

" _I heard it was someone's birthday," Daniel mentioned as he put the bouquet on the table._

 _I blushed. "Gee, I wonder whose it is?"_

 _He kissed me and wished me a Happy Birthday. So did Hawkeye. While it was Sunday, they decided that, even with their day, they would take my place and control the chores while I rested. I disagreed. We argued about this until I conceded to dinner. I put my foot down on everything else._

 _On Thanksgiving, I had all the adults toasting me. Hawkeye led the charge. He talked about my beauty and strength and almost got lost in his rambling. Dolly elbowed him and made him realize that everyone was boring of his speech and to cut it short._

 _But what else made Thanksgiving a little nerve wrecking was Daniel. He figured out I was pregnant! He confronted me when I was getting another bottle of wine from the kitchen. I made him promise not to tell Hawkeye and eventually explained why when he asked. That was yesterday. Hawkeye was in the shower and we were alone._

" _He's worried enough as it is," I said. I was pulling out some yarn and tried determining a baby head size as we talked. I eyed Shannon's dolls below and thought them a perfect example. "He'll be coming home from work more often and not focusing on moving forward with his life. He needs a focus right now."_

" _And what about you?" Daniel seemed anxious himself. "You can't keep secrets from him, most certainly not your health."_

" _It's less than a month," I insisted. "It'll give Hawkeye enough time to adjust to his new job. I can't just spring this on him. I want him to be in a better position and mindset than what he is now. I don't want him to be this helpless ever again."_

 _The words I said changed Daniel in a way that I didn't understand. Even with a spy's observations, I saw that he was conflicted and confused, at best. Maybe it was our bond in Korea that set me apart from my father-in-law? The emotions and experiences that Daniel could not understand? The way letters never truly told the whole story of the initial stage in our life as a couple? Or was it the sad tale of two lovers who should have quit, but continued to be stubborn in their belief in each other?_

 _Eventually, Daniel gathered his emotions together, tied them up in a neat box, and nodded stoically. "I won't say anything. I promise, Jeanie. But I will say something if you do not. I also need you to promise me this."_

" _Anything," I automatically replied._

" _If anything goes wrong, you tell Hawkeye immediately," Daniel stipulated. "No stalling. This wouldn't be a matter of protection anymore. It will become a matter of family and life and death. You cannot keep a secret like this, Jeanie. Your intentions are good, but that road to hell is always paved with them."_

" _This road is a shortcut," I argued softly. I heard the water upstairs turn off._

 _Daniel did not agree. "I cannot see why you cannot share the good news, but I also know that Hawkeye has been high strung and defensive since coming home."_

 _I could have laughed at the statement. "How much worse will he be if I say something now?"_

 _He had to think about that for a moment. "You might be right. He'll be worse. But it doesn't make it right for you to say nothing."_

 _At that point, I found the yarn I wanted and estimated how big it needed to be. We can't be sure on sex of the baby, so neutral colors would have to do. Since it's pretty chilly up here, a hat will have to suffice. It would be the last Christmas gift I give to Hawkeye. But I will not be sure about his reaction. Since that night with Daniel, I have been drifting back and forth between elation and fright._

 _Daniel and I have not talked about this since. I do not feel that he grasps how and why I feel the need to wait. But that's no matter. He still checks in on me every day. Sometimes, he's there in the bathroom with me, holding my hair back while I puke. Other times, he tries switching the alcohol Hawkeye gives me to something less potent, like water, or suggests red wine to tone down the drinking. He also defects any questions or concerns Hawkeye has when he becomes suspicious._

 _And boy, is Hawkeye ever curious! He doesn't like me waking up so early in the morning. Before, I would be up with Shannon or slightly before. Now, it's two hours before and with no coffee made until he's up to go to work. God forbid I don't down the stuff too! He's also been trying to nose his way into every hidey-hole I've created, save for the little room I am writing in now, and try to see why this routine changed._

 _I shoo him away or yell that I'm all right. He knows there's something wrong, but cannot put his finger on it. And because there's been no unusual complications this pregnancy so far, Daniel has not said a word. Hawkeye badgers him too. My father-in-law is completely capable of keeping his mouth shut. Only this morning, the conversation was a little heated._

" _Dad, have you noticed anything about Jeanie?" he asked Daniel. The two were in the living room while Shannon and I were upstairs in the hallway, playing._

 _Daniel was reading the Sunday newspaper. He didn't pay much attention by his response. "Huh?"_

" _I said, did you notice anything about Jeanie?"_

" _Why? Do you feel something is wrong?"_

" _Well, don't you?"_

 _I heard the papers flap. Daniel must have put them down. He also sighed. I learned that it meant he was trying not to be irritated. With Hawkeye's upside down neurosis, it took a lot of energy not to be screaming. I learned that firsthand in Korea. That stretched my thin line of patience often._

" _I'm sure if your wife has something to say, she'll be forthright and honest about it," Daniel explained gently. "If I had any inkling that she was in any danger, I will tell you."_

 _Hawkeye did not like the neutral response and sensed a lie. "You don't know Jeanie like I do," he began, steamed. His voice also grew louder. "Her mind works like a kid in a dark corner. She's scared and doesn't know how to express it. When there's something wrong, she won't come out and tell anyone. She'll keep in inside of her. And you, of all people, should have seen that!"_

 _I have NEVER heard my father-in-law yell before. It was a scary moment and one that reminded me of my own father when I was very young. The second he raised his voice and yelled back about the accusation, Shannon put her hands to her ears and cried. Immediately, I had her in my arms. Playtime was over. My main concern was her, not eavesdropping on these two strong-willed men._

 _Luckily, the argument didn't last long. Hawkeye and Daniel eventually settled to the back porch to talk it out. In the meantime, it left me free to come down to my room and write while my daughter calms down. Shannon is playing on the floor next to my feet. She's offered me her doll's ripped dress to fix._

 _Oh, the joys of being a mother! It's wonderful to have to mend clothing and not a man's chest or leg. I best put this aside now. Shannon is impatient to have her doll dressed._

~00~

December rolled in quietly. By the first of the month, Daniel was already pulling out decorations and planning out a trip to get the tree to complete it. Of course, his Packard wasn't going to carry one. Once more, he asked Eddie to take our chosen one home in his Ford truck. This was obliged. Eddie wouldn't pass up an opportunity to come spend time with us.

There was an old farm down in Searsport that Daniel frequented for several years. He worked us up in the few evenings leading up to the event, detailing the past holidays he spent picking out the perfect tree, chopping it down and directing Eddie to toss it into the truck, only to bring home a trail of needles. Hawkeye even collaborated with the stories, insisting here and there that there was a little drunken fun with the two when he was younger.

On the appointed night, we all stuffed ourselves into the Packard and followed Eddie to Searsport. Within half an hour, we found a parking spot and were tailing the bar owner down the aisles. Axe over his shoulder, Eddie cajoled Daniel about this and that odd selection. They laughed like old friends, clasping hands at one point and discussing the merits of each tree they eyed. Behind them, Hawkeye, Shannon and I remained. My daughter fit perfectly on Hawkeye's shoulders. I held his hand tightly.

From his other side, Hawkeye pulled out a flask and sipped. He handed it to me. I shook my head. I had to remain sober. The way the two older men were acting, I might be the one driving back. I didn't trust Daniel drinking and driving. If he was as good as a drunk as Hawkeye, we were in for a ride.

Hawkeye was surprised. "Well, aren't you becoming quite dull, my dear?"

"I think someone needs to be responsible," I pointed out. "Besides, duty before pleasure."

"Oh, ho! Are we hinting at something?"

"Maybe later." I leaned in and kissed. Quietly, I added, "I'll put on the panty hose. You come in and use your imagination."

"Mommy, what's panty hose?" Shannon asked.

I felt my face flush. "It's like tights," I clarified, "only thinner and nicer."

"Don't we need to watch our language?" Hawkeye hissed.

"I thought we were."

"I'm not the one who started this."

"You complained that I was dull."

We bickered about this for a few minutes. Shannon thought it was hilarious. She prodded Hawkeye on. Even though she was close to my heart, she will always be Hawkeye's little girl and will take his side. I didn't mind this and allowed Hawkeye to win. Afterward, I feigned unfairness, pouting with my lower lip sticking out and my arms across my chest. By the time this happened, Eddie was chopping down our tree in an unsteady fashion. He sprayed saliva trying to hold a cigarette in his mouth with his lips and laugh.

"Are you sure they can handle this?" I was skeptical that two old men could take on a full-sized tree.

"Sure they can," Hawkeye reassured me. "They've done it for years."

I distrusted this. It brought back so many memories to compare this moment to and all of them from Korea. I mean, it was almost as good as Hawkeye and BJ taking turns driving to and from Seoul and tossing a flask around for good luck. Better yet: it was almost as good as Frank Burns coming to join us at poker and winning everything. I couldn't see how Daniel and Eddie could function well enough to bring the best event of the holidays in without goofing it up.

Suddenly, I was giggling. I recalled that morning when we all woke up and realized how drunk we were the night before. Radar had come in and begged us to tell him where Frank was, since he was supposed to be on duty and was MIA once more. We ensured he went to bed and that we tucked him in and even took his boots off. But even then, we were so drunk that we had to rely on the aftermath of our actions to determine what happened.

"What's so funny?" Hawkeye was curious.

"Emotionally exhausted," I began breathlessly.

"And morally bankrupt," Hawkeye finished with a laugh.

In an instant, we were talking about that annoying time, when we had to be nice to Frank because Margaret was in Tokyo. Shannon tried listening to us and seemed to have gotten caught up in the excitement. The tale was exchanged in a sort of fervor that reminded us of how we bonded in the first place. The ending was just as tragic in its own way. Even though BJ and Hawkeye had come back to the camp tired from working at the aide station, it was still good at the end of the day to be rotten to Frank and pretend it was a dream.

We had not realized that we had others listeners too. A small crowd had gathered around us in rapt attention, quietly keeping track of our exploits with Frank. When we stopped, Hawkeye and I soon found ourselves surrounded by curious people. They were not from Crabapple Cove, but were the same small town folks that sought juicy gossip whenever possible. Their eyes hungered for more scandalous stories and urged us to continue on.

Hawkeye cleared his throat. "Nothing more to see here," he said awkwardly.

"Were you in the war?" a woman asked him.

I gripped Hawkeye's hand tighter. "We both were."

Questions soon ripped from their throats. What was it like? Where were you stationed? Did you kill anyone? What are we doing in Korea now? Will we remain there?

Around and around those inquiries went! It was worse than it was back in Crabapple Cove. Hawkeye and I didn't know what to do. We stood there, helpless as these unknown people pelted us with verbal insults that were meant to sate their appetites than to help us. Hawkeye tried pushing his way through and telling them off, but their wall was stronger than our will to survive.

We tried talking to them reasonably and to say that we were not in a combat unit, to get them to let us go. Answers to these matters were interrupted though. No matter what we did, Korea was dogging us. It dragged us through the mud on this beautiful clear night and expected us to work in such a foreign atmosphere where there was no mercy, respect and love.

Luck came to us in the form of Eddie. He called out for us to join him and Daniel since they just got the right tree cut down. Suddenly, people were silent when they noticed the pair. They saw who we were and why we were here and backed away.

We hurried away and did not look back. Indeed, Hawkeye and I offered to do anything to prevent us from dealing with the intruders of our fortress. Even with Shannon on his shoulders, Hawkeye managed to wrestle a seven-foot fir to Eddie's truck. He ordered me to keep to the rear. It wasn't sure if it was for protection or because of my health. He also refused my offers to take Shannon.

Our ride home seemed strange. Daniel's mouth kept twitching every so often. He had something to say, but it wasn't worth it until Shannon was out of sight and hearing. His joyous trip seemed to have been ruined by my careless remark and our following talks. He didn't join in our witty discussions and almost refused to add a reply when we poked at him. He also didn't seem to notice Shannon calling out to him.

Once home and the tree was dragged in and set up, the true decorating began. Daniel transformed and soon pretended to be the loving father and grandfather he always was. He pulled out the boxes and directed us where to put things, his wife's items most especially. He would not let Hawkeye handle those, asking me specifically to take care of each holiday memory like he was allowing me to be its keeper. He told my husband to teach Shannon how to put ornaments on the tree. Already, my daughter had tried hanging a glass one and it fell, breaking at her feet.

Eventually, my father-in-law took me to one side. Hawkeye was cleaning up the glass. "What happened back there?" he hissed.

I shrugged my shoulders. I didn't want to make it a big deal on such a grand occasion. "We started talking about…things…that happened and we didn't hear how loud we were."

"I heard you talking about Frank Burns. Why him, of all things?"

"Well, I was reminded of something and clued Hawkeye in. The rest, as they say, is history."

Daniel sighed. "Morbid curiosity is a bitch. Pardon my language."

"No offense taken," I replied. I looked over at Hawkeye helping Shannon put tinsel up. "It sure beats pretending that thermometers and paper ornaments take the season brighter. You have no idea how happy we are to be home."

"Are your really?" He tried catching my eye to see the truth. When my father-in-law did, he noticed the brief loneliness stuck in my grey ones. "Look, I can hold off on Christmas with my family. Why don't you invite Hawkeye's friend there. BJ? Doesn't he have a family too? Little girl, same age as Shannon?"

"I don't know if they can make it," I confessed. I knew of BJ's financial problems and decided to keep it out. "I mean, it'll be tough on them. It's their first holidays together. I don't want to ruin it."

"I think it'll be better for all of you," Daniel insisted. "His family should understand too. If they noticed how much you and Hawkeye mean to BJ, they would let him come."

"What's this about BJ?" Hawkeye had noted our side conversation and came over. The broken glass was cupped in his hands. "What happened?"

"Nothing," I reassured him. "Your Dad has an idea."

"BJ and his family should come here for Christmas," Daniel said stubbornly. He didn't want to sweep this under the rug. "I'll pay for the tickets."

"Dad, he won't accept it," Hawkeye predicted.

"What if I invited them?" Daniel asked. "He doesn't need to know until we tell him."

"He might have other plans," I warned again.

"I don't think so." Daniel eyed Shannon over us. The spheres grew misty. "The first holiday home is the toughest, I'm sure. Being with the people you served with is a comfort. He won't want to see his extended family yet. He'll want to see both of you."


	16. It's Time to Turn the Page

_A pleasure makes me vibe again tonight.  
I'm just thinking how fine it is  
To feel myself so fine again.  
Celebrate, I'm alive again._

 _It's time to turn the page and start  
And then, don't think that it's time  
To convince yourself it's over?  
Celebrate, I'm alive again._

 _You don't expect from me this chain reaction.  
You can't imagine from me this great affection._

 _See the structure of my pride.  
Wasn't easy to build it away from this.  
I never walked away from you.  
I never walked alone…_

Life marched right into Christmas with a whirl of excitement. While Shannon was elated that Santa Claus was coming son and our lives circled around that emotion, the outside world seemed to trickle and then almost cease. The trickle of people who came to the house slowed down. It was flu season already and people were calling to ask what to do with their sick children. I refused them on the porch to avoid contagion and gave advice readily over the telephone instead.

"No, Mrs. Greene, you really should administer the dosage as the doctor prescribed," I directed one day. I was rubbing my forehead, willing a headache away as I spoke with yet another gossiper. "You said your son was coughing throughout the night…"

Going to the store was becoming a challenge, so much so that Daniel asked that I wait until he gets home so he could drive me into town. The roads were worse this time of year. Ice coated the pathways and the freezing rain that slicked it was almost poisonous to any bare skin. It bit so hard that I could not bear Shannon coming out with me in this type of weather. I nearly sobbed each time I heard her cry out.

Snow soon came, but did not stay. It rolled like dust in the Korean summer and did not accumulate much. Pockets remained in the holes of sand or potholes in the roads. Daniel did warn that there have been blizzards in Crabapple Cove. He didn't think it would be this year though, citing the malicious chill. Maine either had a cold or snowy winter.

There were other challenges too. A few crossed my mind during the season other than the nasty weather. It wasn't just the pregnancy and my first Christmas in Maine that was weighing me down. Other matters came to a head and they came from all directions.

The first involved Christmas. Ever since Daniel suggested having BJ, Peg and Erin fly over, Hawkeye and I have been mulling over this hurdle. We both agreed that BJ's pride wasn't going to allow him to accept us paying the passage. We also worried about Peg. We thought it unfair to her that she had to share BJ for the first Christmas home. We hesitated for a few days before Hawkeye made the request late one night. Shannon was already in bed and we had to wait until their dinner hour finished before talking.

It was an animated conversation initially. Hawkeye and BJ always talked nonstop for long periods of time. Because Korea was not between them, there was no reason to argue about space, privacy and items anymore. Three thousand miles was enough to make the pair realize how they still cared for each other's company without primitive conditions making their lives miserable. While I tried to avoid these talks and leave the men alone, Hawkeye always liked grabbing me and forcing me to talk into the telephone. It wasn't an unwelcome prospect, only one that I did not feel comfortable with because it was not the same as talking face-to-face.

This time though, the tone changed drastically. All it took was Hawkeye mentioning what his Dad proposed. BJ repeated it loudly (enough that I heard it a foot away), sounding incredulous. The next thing Hawkeye knew, there was an argument on the other line, with he and BJ yelling at each other defensively. Then, there was a female voice in the mix, screaming about money and how they could not afford to fly out to Maine at a time like this.

Hawkeye tried calming the situation after he decided that he too was acting childish. "It was a suggestion!" he yelled when he managed to get a word in after BJ stopped talking. "It doesn't need a dramatic response!"

"Here, let me." I reached for the telephone. "I want to try."

Hawkeye shrugged his shoulders. It wasn't often that I ask him for something. He readily handed me the line and backed away slowly. I didn't understand why until I put my ear to the cold piece.

Immediately, I winced. The woman on the other end was still screeching about the war, making ends meet and children without parents. I listened to the pity party for about ten more minutes before it died down. Afterward, I heard the woman take a deep breath and begin her ranting again. Only this time, it was more civilized and had bits of interruptions from Erin. There was no apology, just a list of woes and plenty of sobs.

By the time it finished, I said, "I'm sorry."

There was silence for a few minutes. I was sure we lost the other end. I was going to reach to hang up and dial an operator again when I heard a tiny gasp. It turned into another crying fit. It ended just as the clock struck ten.

The tears eventually ceased. "Who is this?" the woman demanded imperially.

"Jeanie," I replied. "This is Jeanie Pierce. Who am I speaking with?"

"Peg Hunnicutt," was the answer. It wasn't a happy one either.

"Hi, Peg," I began stupidly. I struggled to find the right words. "I'm very sorry to have bothered you at this time. You see, my father-in-law had this crazy idea. He thought that we should all get together this Christmas and have the children introduced to each other."

"I do not think that can happen."

"I understand your reservations. He's offered to help you and BJ and Erin come."

"We do not accept charity."

I paused. This wasn't going as planned, but I thought that at least I had Peg talking to me like a polite human being. I knew that I had to angle it differently though. I had to cut through her and try to see why she won't relent. It wasn't just the money. There was something else inside of Peg Hunnicutt that was eating at her. Her screaming at us held the key and I was going to use it to my advantage.

"This isn't about charity though," I persisted carefully. "We had hoped to meet with you. I mean, you had a wonderful time at the party in New York. I was…well, I had come to anticipate meeting you. BJ has told many wonderful things about you and Erin. And I have a little girl myself, maybe Erin's age. They will be a perfect pair."

Peg audibly swallowed a lump in her throat. "He _has_?"

"Oh, sure," I chatted inanely. "BJ always shared his letters from you, Erin and Waggles."

"He talked about our _dog_?"

"Many times! You wouldn't believe how much he did. Mostly, he shared everything about you and Erin."

And it went on from there. Peg did not believe me until I repeated from memory those letters BJ read out loud during those times when we had nothing better to do in the Swamp. There were always the pictures, the milestones Erin achieved and much more. We then eased into what we all meant to each other, what Korea was like and some of what we did. BJ spared Peg so much of the atrocities we saw and sharing some of them with her was heartbreaking and lifted a weight off of my shoulders.

An hour later, it was Erin's bedtime and we had finished chatting. Peg apologized profusely and begged me to tell Hawkeye the same. It was eleven at night on our end and I was tired. I listened to the words sleepily, nodding here and there like she was in front of me. Eventually, Hawkeye took the warmed item from my hands and wished Peg a good night. He also said the same to BJ.

"Say good night, Gracie," he said when he hung up and got me walking.

"Ahh, Hawkeye, I wasn't even done yet," I pleaded. We were soon at the stairwell and I was finding it difficult to lift my foot to each step.

"The show is over," he confirmed. He helped me up. "The audience went wild. You're a star!"

"The spotlight only stays on for so long," I protested.

"What did the director say? Was she pleased with your performance?"

"Hawkeye, Peg isn't like that. She's very proud."

"Do you think they'll come?"

I had to stop to think of the answer myself. We had not talked about them coming to Crabapple Cove. I had quieted Peg enough so that we could converse in a civilized manner. I thought that giving them a few days to talk it over would be imperative. BJ wasn't so hot on the idea either, but with Peg connecting to someone and believing that there was a woman on her side, there was a chance we'd have our way. I didn't want to give it hope though.

"Maybe," I said. "Talk to them later this week. We'll see how it goes."

Hawkeye took my suggestion seriously. It took all of his mental strength to not pick up the telephone and bother the Hunnicutts again. I had to remind him each time to let things be. But when he made that call without my protests, he was greeted with enthusiasm and joy. Peg and BJ had talked and made their decision. They were accepting our offer for financial help for this trip. They were going to fly out to Maine for Christmas and spend some time with us.

Daniel was so happy that we achieved that much. The first chance he got, he drove to Portland and had the money wired over to Mill Valley. The next thing we knew (literally hours later), we received a loud verbal message from BJ. He had gotten the funds and purchased the tickets and they were packing their bags. They had two weeks before the plane was taking off and they just made the cut.

Everything was in full swing then! The next obstacle was cleaning. I had managed to make the house more than livable for two men. While Shannon's arrival had merited some new arrangements, my father-in-law hardly made it child friendly and it did not have a woman's touch to it. I slowly changed that, believing that two girls are up to more mischief than two fully-grown men, and conceded to Hawkeye's recent hints that he wanted a room it the house similar to the Swamp. I avoided it as much as I could and only set up an extra bed, the still and some items from that horrible tent in there.

Something else unexpectedly happened too. In the midst of all of these preparations, I had a visitor. Although he had recovered from that near drowning, Larry stayed away and was only seen going to school. Now, near to the holidays, he was back and leaving me confused. That too was something difficult.

I was surprised one morning when I heard a timid knock on the door. When I opened it, I saw the teenager. He was grinning from ear to ear, but it was bashful. He wasn't sick. His face was red and it wasn't just from the weather.

"Get inside, Larry, it's cold out," I urged, motioning him in. "What's the problem? Is your grandmother ok?"

He obeyed me and shucked his boots and outerwear off where he stood. "We're fine, Mrs. Pierce. I just…well, I just wanted to ask you…well, can I ask you some questions?"

I thought the request was strange. "Sure. Do you want some coffee or tea?"

"Do you have hot chocolate?" Larry didn't seem to like any of my suggestions. "I have an hour before Grandma finds out that I skipped Bible class. I thought that I'd warm up before going back."

"Oh? I didn't know you were in Bible classes."

"Grandma insists on it. She believes that every man should be godly, whatever that means."

Larry chatted from there. Like a few months ago, it took everything to catch up to his rambling. Eventually, we made it to the kitchen. I fussed over his wet clothes and made him change into Hawkeye's smaller set. Once he emerged from the bathroom drier, I made him sit in the dining room with Shannon. I served them both the delicious liquid while I grabbed some coffee for myself. Shannon wasn't happy to be at the table, but she did light up when she noticed Larry.

Shannon and Larry laughed and played while they sipped their hot chocolate. I sat back and watched them, refusing to interject. It was a delight to see Larry so animated. He was so good with kids, I noticed, and treated my daughter like she was an equal. When they started flicking their drinks at each other though, I had to stand in the middle. Shannon was exiled to the living room with her blocks and dolls. Larry remained with me.

I sat back down and downed the last of my coffee. "So, Larry," I began, "you said you were curious."

"Uh-huh." Larry's voice echoed inside the cup as he too finished. "I wanted to know something. Well, Mrs. Pierce, I wanted to see if you could tell me what it was like moving here."

"What?" I suppressed the urge to laugh. "Whatever for?"

"I had something stuck in my head…some words…and I wanted to see if it fit in with your story."

"Larry, my story isn't worth knowing."

"But I think it is. I mean, people talk about you all the time. You're a mystery."

I had to ponder the sentiment. Sure, things quieted down here with me around. The gossip wasn't so bad after a few months. Mrs. Pettigrew was just a memory. But now, here was this kid who desired to seek more than the woman who helped a nosy town. He wasn't seeking me out like some circus freak. He genuinely was interested and it was for the sake of his art.

"Can you read this please?" Larry pulled out a slip of paper from the other side of the table. I had not noticed it before and took it from him. "I mean, I think I got the point across a little. I just want to continue it."

 _Whatever you do, I'll do it too.  
Show me everything and tell me how._

"Well, I guess that sums it up a little up," I admitted, handing it back to Larry. "I was so afraid of messing everything up. Here's this town that has accepted many and yet cannot bring them into the fold. How crazy do you have to be to fit in? Does one have to run a certain way to be part of the picture? Or is there a way to walk the same as everyone else? I mean, these were strangers like me. We're all human. It's only the way of life that separates us."

Larry listened intently. He nodded here and there and that was it. "But didn't you have to do what you were told?" he pressed.

"Of course I did," I replied. "I've been told to obey this and that convention so for long that I tired of it. I am _me_. I did feel like that I had to copy everybody else's actions though. I could color outside the lines."

"But nobody is going to like that, Mrs. Pierce. You can't…well, you can't color outside the lines here, like you say."

"Oh, but I think you can, Larry. There is so much here that others suppress. Once others see the same thing, there will be a new horizon. You'll see."

Larry was going to say something, but his mouth worked weirdly. He stopped to work out what he wished to tell me. "I have enough," he admitted, getting up. "Thanks for the hot chocolate, Mrs. Pierce."

"Anytime," I said. As I watched Larry gather his clothes and head out, promising to bring back Hawkeye's, I wondered why he came over. The questions were strange.

Indeed, Larry was even on my mind until bedtime. His visit almost made me almost miss Hawkeye's pokes too. He had crawled into bed pretty late and was already whispering pretty nothings in my ear. I was half-asleep and hardly had sex on my mind and batted him away. However, when Hawkeye began inquiring about my early hours, why I was his plump princess and the fake smiles, I had to wake up. I wasn't going to be caught red-handed. This was a challenge from him that I had to face alone.

"Good Sir, I hardly call myself this 'plump princess' that you speak of," I announced in a joking manner. "That would be our daughter."

"You've gained weight," Hawkeye observed. "Maybe ten pounds or so. This isn't like you, Jeanie."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I have good people and good eating. What more can I ask for?"

"Well, your eating habits are the same as before. You're also drinking less coffee and gin."

"I want to leave a lot of things behind. Is that so wrong?"

"The gin, I can see. Coffee is something you always have, morning, noon and night. That's your blood type."

Hawkeye got me there. Dean and I had been using coffee as a way to keep awake since we were twelve or so. Even at night, when we both were together and could not sleep, we used the brew as an excuse to sit up and talk. I followed this tradition throughout my Army career. In Korea, even though the coffee was horrible, I drank it without much discrimination. It was grey and sometimes needed more than powdered milk and sugar to make it bearable, but I downed it nonetheless.

"I have a better sleeping pattern and less stress," I pointed out. It was the only excuse I had. "This isn't like Korea. We don't have to make do with a schedule that doesn't make sense. We don't have to be bored for several days and then be busy for an equal amount of time."

Hawkeye nodded. He knew defeat when he saw it. "Why are you getting up so early though? I though you liked to sleep in."

"I do," I admitted, "but I feel like more gets done when I'm up before the sun is."

Again, Hawkeye went on a tangent about what I was like before. It was all talk about before Shannon and coming home of course. I mean, that was all he had, but he also knew that I was the same beaming personality growing up too. There weren't too many changes in my life other than the gain of age and knowledge and the endless drinking habits. Indeed, I had grown the most when I was in Korea. Although it was hell, it was a horrible realization.

I responded by kissing Hawkeye. "Love, I am not changing for the worst. I think there are some good things coming and we need to prepare for them. Do not worry about me."

"Would you tell me if anything was wrong?" he pressed me.

I did not hesitate. The mask had to remain on. "Of course. Now, did you have something you wanted?"

Hawkeye forgot all about his worries for the moment. "Well, I always liked it when you sat on me." He tucked at my clothes.

Indeed, I thought they were uncomfortable too. But I was also cautious. Pregnant meant that having relations with my husband was frowned upon. In nursing school, they always said that it would hurt the baby. In that moment though, I had to forget about that. There wasn't any harm in having some fun anyway. I never saw my pregnancy as high risk.

I took off my clothes and pulled at Hawkeye's pants. I was free for now. "Let's get this party started then."

 _Mission accomplished._

* * *

 **A couple of notes, as always. :) The chapter before, I forgot to reference the episode (season 4, "Der Tag"). In this 1, the lyrics are (in order): Lacuna Coil's "Purify" and Phil Collins' "Strangers Like Me". But I promise, more M*A*S*H characters will make an appearance in this story. You'll see.**


	17. Joyous Reunions

The day before Christmas dawned chilly. Already, Shannon was up and about, screaming that Santa Claus was coming this night and protesting that she was a good girl. Hawkeye and I woke up to this excitement, groaning. Hawkeye mumbled that this was revenge for when he was that age and woke up his Dad. I never recalled having holidays like this and just went with the flow. I was late in getting up and was trying to hold back the bile in my throat.

"I'll check on her," I announced.

I ran towards the stairs and caught my daughter before she took a flying leap. Giggling in my arms, she and I went to the bathroom together to begin our business. While I placed her on the toilet, I started the shower and threw up in there, kneeling next to the half-used curtain. Shannon paid me no heed. She was busy going through the book Daniel left in there for her reading pleasure.

To make the scene more natural, I stripped myself of my clothes and jumped into the shower before my daughter knew anything. The water pounding down masked the remaining gagging noises. Between the water in my ears and Shannon finishing up, I heard a knock on the door. I didn't answer with so much acid in my mouth and tried listening for any clues as to who it was. I feared it was Hawkeye and tried keeping it natural.

Luckily, it was my father-in-law. He offered Shannon all sorts of treats for breakfast, to distract her. When she responded with enthusiasm, he made her flush, wash her hands and come with him. He yelled back to me that everything was taken care of before leaving me. He also said that the plane should be landing in less than three hours. Hawkeye and I had to leave soon to pick up BJ, Peg and Erin from the airport.

"Dammit," I muttered to myself. I had nearly forgotten.

I ended up skipping hair washing and soaping up. When my stomach settled down and asked for food, I turned the water off and ran to the bedroom to dress. I emerged perfect and capable of driving to Portland. Hawkeye always had other ideas though. Even though I was legally allowed to drive in the US now, my husband denied me any access to the wheel if he could and declared that he never liked my driving. Twice was enough in Hawkeye's eyes, even though once I was as drunk as he was and the other because there was a sniper behind us.

Downstairs, he took the keys from Daniel before I had the chance to. "I think I'll drive, Madam."

I rolled my eyes. "You're holding the past against me?"

"Just until the day we die." He stuffed a pastry in my mouth. "Do you think we can take the meal on the road?"

"Expecting traffic?"

"Of course. It's Christmas in Maine! There are the traditional lobster trappings, the shoreline vigils…"

Daniel interrupted him. "We don't have those, Jeanie. There shouldn't be a lot of cars out, but do be careful. It's very slippery on the roads." He waved us out the door.

Hawkeye and I took the hint. We gathered our coats and left. Hawkeye beat me to the driver's side and started the Packard. I pretended to be upset about not taking over and moped in the passenger seat, arms across my chest. This soon ended. Hawkeye kissed the blues away as he backed out the driveway. We were on our way.

There wasn't much to talk about on the almost two-hour trip to Portland. Most of it was spent napping and trying to keep my stomach in one spot. Hawkeye nagged at me about his previous concerns and I countered with neutral responses of my own. I badgered him about his late hours and teased him about another nurse in my place. On our break in Damariscotta, I tried taking over the Packard, but Hawkeye managed to pick me up from the seat and carry me to the other side of the car.

Our arrival was one of many. It was tough finding parking in Portland. Hawkeye and I had to keep the car several businesses away from the airport and walk the rest of the way. He promised me that I would have the keys and bring the car for BJ and his family. He figured that I wanted to see them first before running back for the car.

"Damn right," I said. I was already running out of breath rushing. "I want to bring BJ to his knees this time."

Hawkeye knew what I was talking about. Saying goodbye to the tall clown of the Swamp, I jumped on him and swung on him in a childlike hug before coming to the ground. But I also didn't know what else I was going to do. This was the first time that Hawkeye and I saw anyone from the 4077th since leaving Korea all those months ago. Nervous was hardly the emotion on top of my list. There was elation, happiness and even an urge to shake BJ. His progress had been different from ours, but nonetheless it was equally difficult. I wanted to give him a piece of my mind and push some common sense into him!

"Oh, a foursome in bed?" Hawkeye whispered.

"Hawkeye!" I was going to swat him, but stayed my hand. We had people watching us. "Keep your filthy mouth shut," I said lamely instead.

"Never," he vowed, taking me by the hand. "Besides, where would the fun be?"

I shook my head and followed his lead. Before long, we were at the airport and trying to find our way to the gates. Hawkeye also stopped to ask for when flights from California were coming in. There were several at this hour, but the one from San Francisco was running late. We were informed it might land any minute though.

"That's our cue," Hawkeye told me, winking.

From there, we were allowed outside, to wait for the plane. For fifteen long minutes, Hawkeye and I watched as each one landed and allowed its passengers to leave. We eyed each person, hoping to see BJ and his family, and were disappointed when each small family turned out to be someone different. Finally, when the last one until the evening came in, we gripped the fence line and were almost _praying_ that we'd see BJ. Most of the people disembarking were parents and small children. It was a hassle trying to sort through them all!

Finally, I saw him. "BJ!" I yelled, waving. "Over here! We're over here!"

Hawkeye copied my motions. "Beej, over here!"

It didn't take long before a clean-shaven BJ noticed us. He handed his sleeping daughter to his wife and pushed several people aside to see us. Even though he was on the other side of the gate and in his best non-Army clothes, he still hit it with such a force that Hawkeye and I almost toppled over. We kept our balance though, talking at the same time and demanding each other what civilian life brought us. Before long, all three of us had tears in our eyes and were hugging each other through the metal barrier.

Peg slowly made her way towards us. She walked with trepidation and kept Erin wrapped tightly in a blanket against the Maine cold. I could not blame her. Out of all of us, she was the outsider. She could not understand out excitement. Her stance alone told me a million things, all of them having to do with a fear. She was scared that she would lose BJ all over again. Korea was haunting her too.

Eventually, BJ decided that he had to go _through_ the gate to properly embrace us. Peg led BJ by the hand to the other side, where we began the greeting all over again. She stood behind him though, watching us like we were a portrait in the museum. Of course, BJ introduced his beautiful family. But it was not the same for the woman who stood by herself for almost two years and held the family together while BJ was overseas. While Hawkeye and BJ began their updates, I approached Peg.

"I'm Jeanie," I said as an introduction. "We've talked on the telephone."

"Of course." Peg nodded. "You know me. This is our daughter, Erin."

Even knowing Erin's age, I asked, "How old is she?"

"Two," she answered.

"My daughter just turned two a few months ago," I offered. I found this to be our link, even when we talked on the phone a few weeks ago. "I'm sure they'll get along."

Peg cuddled closer to Erin. "Does it get this cold here?"

"So I've been told," I replied cheerfully. "Come on. The car is parked pretty far. I'm sure we can walk and pick them up." I pointed to the pair behind me. "You and Erin can warm up. They can carry your luggage."

Peg agreed. She reminded BJ about their essentials and I had to tell Hawkeye about tipping the man who handled it. Together, keys in my hand, we both headed inside and walked out the front doors. I took the lead and directed her to the Packard. By then, Erin had woken up and was crying. We had to stop for a few minutes while Peg consoled her. When she had been satisfied, we continued the journey. And to prove that I was not the reckless driver Hawkeye painted me to be, I carefully navigated the Packard through the streets and to the cul-de-sac, where vehicles lined up to wave down weary travelers. We saw BJ and Hawkeye, tripping over each other with what seemed to be a hundred bags and suitcases, and flagged them down.

As the two loaded their belongings, Peg looked at me from the back seat. "Are they normally like this together?" she inquired softly.

"Worse," I confirmed, smiling. "But that's not a bad thing."

"Really? I know Hawkeye can be a sweetie. His letters told me that. I could not picture him and BJ to be so…well, _obnoxious_."

"Sometimes, adding two elements equates to combustion."

Peg giggled, putting a spare hand over her mouth to cover the indiscretion. "If they're that immature, I would think it worse."

We would have talked more, but Hawkeye was cajoling me out of the seat. He believed that the short distance was enough exercising of the clutch for one day. I wasn't unhappy to be leaving the spot. Indeed, I actually was looking forward to speaking with Peg. As the minutes passed, she was slowly becoming a confidante in another way. It appeared that she needed someone to reach out to and that there wasn't much she could do while BJ was in Korea. Nobody understood her.

I settled in the back seat with Peg and Erin as BJ and Hawkeye took over the front. Before long, they were back chatting. They were so absorbed in their conversations again that Peg and I were left unmolested. This was a blessing. I turned to her and gripped her hand. She returned it.

"You told me they were always like this," Peg began quietly.

"When they got along," I replied. "I mean, close quarters meant that we got on each other's nerves too. One of us was going to kill the other for the smallest things."

"Like what could be so bad?"

"Frank Burns was annoying. That name should say it all."

"BJ did write about him. Frank Burns seems… _uptight_."

"That's an understatement. Then, there was Charles Winchester."

"Oh! He was the man who always played the classical music."

"Right." I recalled the Chinese musicians with a shudder. "Hawkeye would climb the furniture. BJ talked nonstop about the smallest things and pranked people."

"What did you do?"

The question jarred me a little. I wasn't annoying at too many standards. Trapper never minded me and always liked keeping me on a lease, chained to an endless round of drinking and games. BJ, Frank and Charles were always irritated that Hawkeye and I took over the Swamp more than once during the day. If we could not have relations in there, then we had to find another spot. But that messy tent was always our first choice.

"Hawkeye and I had our little transgressions," I admitted with a smirk. "Let's just say we were very public about our affair. Nothing has changed here."

Peg giggled. "BJ has more modesty." She looked at Erin. "We'll talk later, I think. Share a pot of coffee?"

"I'd love to," I said. Already, I was comfortable with Peg.

The rest of the trip to Crabapple Cove involved us listening to Hawkeye and BJ recount their victories and try to one-up the other. Peg and I rolled our eyes. Together, we cooed over Erin instead. This was her first trip out of California. Trying to explain how someplace can be different was difficult. Erin was curious though, pointing to the grey skies like it was the most magical thing in the world.

Luckily, this distracted us until we arrived home. Immediately, BJ went quiet. Like me, he was utterly amazed to see the house. He didn't expect Hawkeye to have so large of a home. He even eyed the ocean behind it. The harsh waves crashed into the wet sand constantly, like a long-lost friend reaching over and over again. When I was helping Peg and Erin out, I noted that BJ was mesmerized. He could not keep his gaze off of the water.

"Hey, Beej, some help with the bags here?" Hawkeye woke him from the reverie. "You know, your clothing for the next few days?"

"Right." BJ shook his head. "I'll be there in a minute." He continued to glance at that ocean until he rounded to the back of the Packard.

I touched Peg's arm gently. "Let's go inside," I coaxed. "My father-in-law should have the fireplace going."

We hurried into the house, just as the freezing rain began. While Hawkeye and BJ ran up and down the stairs with the luggage, huffing and puffing and complaining all the way, we settled in the living room near the promised warmth. Daniel was already out from the kitchen. He greeted Peg like she was the most important person the room and hugged BJ when he had a spare moment. He also made Erin giggle and earned her trust quickly.

"Do you mind if I bring her to meet Shannon?" he asked Peg. "I'm sure they'll get along fine."

Peg nodded her assent. My father-in-law took the child upstairs. Peg and I watched this nervously. We were not sure how this was going to play out. But once Daniel emerged from Shannon's room with a smile on his face and giggles behind him, we both sighed in relief. That signaled the beginning of our time together, with husbands and children busy with each other.

I didn't know where to begin. Peg saw this and started with small talk. From there, we twisted and turned until we found a way to stop ignoring the elephant in the room (Korea). When it turned into something more, when we were confining in each other and whispering, Hawkeye and BJ took notice and stopped. It wasn't even two hours since they appeared and we too were getting along just as well as our daughters. BJ and Hawkeye hardly had talked and drank and were unloading and unpacking still.

Hawkeye grabbed BJ's shirt. "What do you make of that?"

Even BJ was confused. "I…don't know. It might be a conspiracy."

"Of what? What did we do wrong?"

"I don't know that either. We might need to ask them."

Peg and I heard this and turned our heads. The annoyed look on our faces was enough for the two to leave. Quickly, we resumed our conversation, this time about when we got home. Peg was talking quietly about BJ's difficulties and how she was trying to cope the best way she could with _his_ neurosis. She could not understand why he was so rebellious against society and had to nag at him for the smallest things, like shaving. Peg DID NOT like the moustache.

"Why did he do it?" she lamented to me when it was mentioned. "What happened?"

"Some people dealt with it in different ways," I admitted. "BJ just decided that he wanted to do every little thing against the Army. Growing a moustache was one of them."

Afterward, time passed quickly and we grew closer to each other. It was becoming easier to confine in Peg, I found, and I did not want to get up to make dinner when Daniel told me it was getting late. She volunteered to help me, which made the chore more bearable. After getting up though, we heard some noises upstairs. We could not tell what they were. It was childish laughter, but it was hard to tell if it was Erin and Shannon or Hawkeye and BJ.

Daniel took over our spots on the couch and picked up his newspaper. Pretending to read, he announced, "The children seem to be having a good time."

"Uh oh," Peg said. She looked to the stairs. "You don't suppose…?"

"I wouldn't put it past them," I replied. "Let's check."

Our minds were at ease when we saw the girls in Shannon's bedroom. My father-in-law must have taken a gamble and thought the two would be close and set up another bed in my daughter's room. He was right. Erin and Shannon were obviously very much friends now. Not only had they been playing nonstop for hours without a fight, but they also managed to share their toys, chat up a storm and make a mess all at once. There was no animosity and the typical defensiveness that a child gets.

Peg was relieved. "Two down, two to go. Where could they be?"

"In there," I pointed out, motioning to the room that Hawkeye wanted as his personal space. I walked over there with Peg. "I'm sure they're busy."

That was the understatement of the year. Suddenly, Hawkeye and BJ burst out together, wrestling and practically rolling down the stairs. Peg and I exchanged glances. We hurried to the top of the stairwell and were yelling at the both of them to stop. We weren't sure if they were actually fighting or if it was play. Their laughter in the living room indicated the latter thankfully.

Peg looked at me seriously. "Well now, isn't this a bit of a plot twist?"

"Right," I conceded. "Two adults still acting like children is a bedtime story worthy of cringing."

As Hawkeye and BJ brushed off the dust from their shoulders, their antics began anew. Only this time, BJ shoved Hawkeye onto the couch and proceeded with a new game, pretending to be king of his castle. Ignoring this, I checked that room and saw glasses tipped over, I knew that they were drinking heavily. It was only a matter of time before we realized that Shannon and Erin were not being watched and I cursed myself for not checking in sooner. At least they were fine unsupervised.

"I think we should settle up here for the night," Peg suggested, "unless they tire themselves out…"

"I doubt it," I said, glancing one more time at the pair. "But I agree. Let's stay up here. I have something I need to tell you anyway. You can't tell anyone until tomorrow though."


	18. Every New Beginning

After his initial shock wore off and the knitted hat was put away, Hawkeye did not want to leave me alone. Christmas Day meant that I was busy in the kitchen cooking and cleaning by myself for the first time. It also meant that he was underfoot and always behind me, asking me if I was all right. Every time I turned around, he was in the way and shooting off all sorts of questions in my direction. It was very annoying. I had to somehow avoid him at all costs or dinner wasn't going to get done if I continued to entertain him.

"How could you keep this from me?" he asked me constantly.

I ignored him until the millionth time it was voiced prompted an answer. "Would you have gone to work if I did?" I countered when I reached for a bowl above my head. "You would have forgotten that you need a livelihood."

Hawkeye reached over my head and grabbed the desired item for me. "I'd skip going to the clinic."

"Would you have stayed home with me and forgotten that other people need you?"

"Yes, I probably would have."

"And where would I have been?"

"On the couch, if I could help it!"

"See what I mean?" I grabbed the item from Hawkeye. "You're impossible sometimes. You're on the pathway to being _you_ again. I didn't want to disturb that until now. Your Dad took care of me. That's enough."

" _Dad_ took care of you?" Hawkeye was furious. He would have stomped away to confront Daniel, but I stopped him.

"I begged him not to tell you," I said softly. "Technically, he was telling you the truth. There was nothing wrong with me."

"But now, we're having another baby in six months!" Hawkeye sounded frantic. "What are we going to do?"

"Wing it, like we always do," I answered automatically. "Hawkeye, things do happen. There's no such thing as birth control here. We knew the consequences of our actions. Let's just be thankful it is not in Korea and we do not have to go through the same thing again. We are very lucky parents."

Hawkeye nodded and let it go. I was grateful. I didn't want him on a soapbox today of all days. But his ranting was bad enough that it brought BJ over. He stood in the doorway quietly with his arms crossed while we ironed things out and entered only when Hawkeye departed outside and left me be. Daniel had called him over to help with cleaning up the beach. Recent holidays did not matter to those who litter, we found to our chagrin.

When BJ decided to linger nearby like Hawkeye, I had to say something. "Don't you have someplace to go to?" I asked. I was highly irritated.

"Figured we haven't really talked yet," he pointed out. "Peg has the kids."

I nodded as I proceeded with pouring and mixing ingredients. "What's on your mind?"

"I don't know whether or not to congratulate you or yell at you," BJ admitted. "That was some pretty foolish move you've made."

"You too, huh? Isn't it enough that I have to get this from Hawkeye?"

"You know that I have to say something."

"Don't you always?"

BJ sighed. "Look, I warned you that you pushed yourself to your limits. You're a sick woman, Jeanie. Is this really what you want? To be dead and not have your children know you?"

"I don't have any complications and I've been fine," I noted. I felt anger at BJ's intrusion, but kept it to myself. I knew that he was trying to be helpful.

" _Yet_ ," he pointed out. "Sooner or later, something will happen, Jeanie. It might not be now. It might be a month, maybe two from now. I mean, don't you care about where your mother is? Doesn't that worry you too? Or Korea? Does that still bother you?"

I stiffened. I didn't know BJ had knowledge of Mom. "In a way, I suppose. I do check once in a while. Korea is a fading memory at this point."

"Yes, but how many times did you bother to call about your mother?"

"Maybe twice, three times. I don't know."

"How many times in the past have you run into health problems?"

"Which time do you want to talk about?"

"You're flippant," BJ accused me.

"No, just tired of the big to-do," I said. I stopped mixing and poured my concoction into a baking dish. "Look, I didn't do this to be cruel to Hawkeye. I wasn't trying to hide anything on purpose. It's just…I saw him, so small and afraid of his own shadow, and I couldn't bring another weight on his shoulders until now. When he told me that he was going to work at the clinic again, I was so excited. I didn't want to take that away from him."

"And he's doing better," BJ continued.

"Right." I faced him and nodded. "I didn't want to ruin it. I figured that a month wasn't going to hurt him. It was going to give him time to cope and come to terms with some of what we've experienced."

"But now, he has six more months of worry and a lifetime more after that," BJ said. "He's not letting you go anywhere."

"I just hope this isn't the wrong time," I fretted.

"Having a baby is never a bad time," BJ replied. "Peg and I are going to try again. I graduated from part time to full."

"With an office and receptionist, I'm sure," I teased.

"No, I wouldn't go as low as Frank," BJ said. He would have continued, but Hawkeye and Daniel came inside. "We'll talk more later."

Hawkeye immediately departed from his Dad's side and was with me in seconds. He kept asking me questions. Was I tired? Did my feet hurt? Was I nauseous? Did I want to sit down?

It was enough that even Daniel raised an eyebrow. He said nothing though. But there was something in his eyes that told me a million stories and all of them bringing a mist to his eyes. He recalled doing the same thing to his wife, no doubt about it. From what I understand, Hawkeye was born around the same time his Dad graduated from medical school. My father-in-law was dreamy as he walked away from us, perhaps imaging that same time too, when he was nervous about what Hawkeye was clamoring about.

It was so different from when we were in Korea. With Shannon, the ordeal had been humiliating and scary. I had wanted to abort the baby, but could not make myself do it. There was an attachment in my heart, maybe because I had lost so much and had Hawkeye, but I've had to still that as well. Shannon wasn't with me for long. I've had to stay in Korea and she was home. It was a long exile from the child I grew to love so much and always will.

I waved Hawkeye's concerns away. "If I was tired and sore, I'd let you know."

"Would _not_ ," Hawkeye replied. It dripped of sarcasm and obnoxiousness.

"Get out of my kitchen," I threatened. I grabbed a spoon and swatted his ass. "If I have to do it again, you won't be so lucky."

"Oh, do it again!" Hawkeye proposed.

"You're impossible! I squealed as he took me into his arms. I dropped the utensil as we kissed, long and hard.

I had to laugh with Hawkeye as we began dancing. Daniel had turned on the radio and all of the Christmas classics were playing. All and all though, I thought that the holidays were beginning to be jolly and that the surprise had blown over. This wasn't so serious after all. We could get through anything. Two children weren't going to be an issue. In our hearts, there was always room for more.

~00~

 _New Years Day 1954  
Crabapple Cove, Maine_

 _BJ, Peg and Erin came for Christmas and they left only a few days ago. The house has been quieter ever since. All the more reason to keep busy, I suppose. The few days we saw them had been a wonderful treat. It was like someone daggling candy in front of us and we only had precious minutes to suck on it before it was taken away. Even Shannon was sad to see Erin go. She was crying when we dropped them off at the airport together._

 _The promise of seeing each other in May and June was a distant one. Although everyone was onboard for a reunion, we could not tell about the other changes that might come to pass. Anything can happen, yes, but the hope that we will remain with each other for the rest of our lives is a blessing in disguise. Just seeing BJ was great. It reminded us that we connected in Korea and still can be friends, even after that terror had ended._

 _The thing I also starting realizing now is that I have friends and all of them for different aspects of my life. Lorraine Blake was first. She was a neighbor and a friend and a mother next, reminding me that I need the love and care of someone older. Kellye was there when I was lonely. She continues to pepper me with letters of meditation in solitude, the epitome of those early days in Korea. Margaret was next. She reminded me that I had the Army inside of me, now and always, and it will define my life, even when I am a civilian._

 _After Korea, it was different and a new cast of characters showed. There is Dolly. Even though she is family, she confines in me the same problems I have as a woman. Lastly (so far), there is Peg. Like me, she is a mother who struggles with the same problems I do and can relate and we can work it out that way._

 _This circle of women after dealing with a world of men is strange. I have been one of the boys for the longest time and cannot imagine being with people of the same sex as I am. But that's the way life is here now. Going from one life to another is strange and exhilarating all the same. I don't know if I am enjoying civilian life and being a woman again, but I think that I will come to accept it. It's just a different ball and chain._

 _Well, this is a new year anyway. It's time to ring it in. Within two weeks, the Pierce family will show up again. This will be the last holiday dinner for some months (I want to say that Easter is the next big to-do). And in a little more than five months' time, our baby will be born. That'll be something more to celebrate too._

~00~

It was a very tense dinner already and I felt it. From the cleaning to the cooking and the eventual arrivals that trickled in little by little, I noted that my usually happy in-laws were more than grouchy. Even though Thanksgiving went off without problems and nobody snapped like dragons, it seemed like this get-together was the opposite of the earlier occasion. The Pierce family was angry about something and it seemed directed at some unknown person. I hadn't figured it out yet. I was too busy.

I was also pretty tired. I had been up for several nights, ensuring that this feast went off without an issue. Dolly wasn't around to help me this time around and I had to use every resource I had to come up with a pretty good meal. While Hawkeye and Daniel cautioned me to take it easy and stated that anything I did was good, it still did not help matters. By the time everyone was settled and eating, I was too exhausted to join them and could only listen to the conversations from the kitchen stool I collapsed on.

It was much muted in the other room. My father-in-law was trying to keep the place animated, but even he was strained under this unknown force. He tried talking to one of his brothers, I heard. Then, there was this silence that I could not comprehend. Too tired to care, I made myself a plate and settled standing against a counter, leaning my food against my stomach. Already, it was protruding slightly. Nobody could tell the difference, but I could. The small life swam inside of me and was already doing enough kicking that my plate bounced slightly. It was the beginning of long, sleepless nights, I knew.

I was so engrossed that I didn't hear the uproar. When Hawkeye came into the kitchen with Shannon, I was stunned. I set aside my food and glanced over with concern.

"What's wrong?" I wrung my hands.

"Keep Shannon in here!" Hawkeye barked.

I was startled. I never heard him command me in such a manner, not even in the OR. I obeyed him, seeing in his blue eyes a fierce look I never seen before, and watched him leave. I took my daughter into my arms and held her as the shouting grew louder and Shannon grew more scared. The worst of it was Dolly. I never knew her to be so defensive before. However, she was the most vocal, her screaming drowning Hawkeye out…and she aimed it at her brother, Billy.

"How _could_ you?!" she kept repeating. "That poor little girl… _how could you_?!"

Nobody was able to calm her down. Eventually, I saw a shadow jump and lunge forward. There were a few loud bangs as somebody hit a wall. Fists made contact with faces. Arms tangled together and tried to pull the other apart. Before I knew it, the fight became worse than the Marines at Rosie's and nobody had a sound head on.

Hawkeye was back in the kitchen within seconds. He already had our shoes and coats. He hardly had his own on as he wordlessly handed the bundle to me. I didn't hesitate. Immediately, I had Shannon wrapped in her winter gear. My clothing was on tightly as I pulled her closer and ran for the back door with Hawkeye. It was just in the nick of time too. A vase came flying out of nowhere and smacked against the counter I was leaning on.

Hawkeye escorted us to the front and into the Packard. Shannon was still in my arms in the passenger seat as he started the car. He almost destroyed the clutch putting it in reverse and driving it out in first gear. I winced as the car whined and bagged to be up-shifted. I would have said something had Hawkeye not finally gotten it out of first and shifted into second and then third.

"We're going to see Eddie," Hawkeye announced abruptly.

I winced and nodded. "What's going on?"

His face turned dark. "I don't want to talk about it, Jeanie."

I didn't pursue the matter. Instead, I admonished him on his driving. Hawkeye had done some heavy drinking and was not steady on the road and yelled at me to shut up. Again, I listened and thanked whoever was up there that he made it to the parking lot safely. While going to Eddie's car was a short drive, it seemed longer than a five-minute hop in the Packard. Even Shannon was afraid. Whatever had happened in that house, I could not blame her!

Immediately, we ran inside. Hawkeye found us a corner table and excused himself. He went to the counter and was talking in low tones to Eddie. Paulie and Chuck had joined the small circle. All of them did not look pleased with what Hawkeye was telling them. But other things distracted me. Lucy was one of them. She pressed me for what I wanted from the menu. When I shrugged my shoulders, she nodded and left me. She came back a minute later with two pops and some crackers to snack on.

Jake was my second. It seemed like he came out of nowhere. He quietly asked permission to sit with me. When I smiled my assent, he took the chair opposite of me. He did not ask me what was wrong. He did not point at Shannon like many others did. He only sat with his beer and took a few sips.

"I don't think a drink is going to cut it tonight," he finally said.

I shook my head. "No. I wouldn't want to anyway."

"Did you hear what happened?"

"I have been slaving in my kitchen for a week making dinner. I have heard nothing."

"Well, I think I'll leave it to Hawkeye to explain."

"It might be better that way. I don't think I can take much more family drama."

Jake leaned in. "There's going to be more where that came from. You'll see."

He left. Lucy followed in his wake. She added another bottle of pop to the table for Hawkeye. Her eyes told me another story though. Hawkeye wasn't going to join us. He was so pissed off about something that he could not bear to be in our company.

I was so scared. I had seen Hawkeye in fits of rage before, but _never_ like this. I didn't know what to do. I figured my next move might land us in a fistfight. But leaving him to stew seemed worse than talking. He was dangerously close to being a violent drunk.

When Lucy came by again, I stopped her. "Think we can bunk here for the night?" I inquired quietly. "I don't want to impose. I just think –"

"Don't worry, Jeanie." Lucy put a hand on my arm reassuringly. "I think Eddie has it all figured out. We'll just call Dr. Pierce and let him know you're here."

"One more thing, if you don't mind?"

"Anything for a wife of Hawkeye Pierce."

I grinned. "One cheeseburger and a basket of fries please."

Lucy told me it'll be up in a few minutes. She also whispered that she'll try to get Hawkeye back my way. I thanked her again and turned my attention back to Shannon. She had been so quiet and wide-eyed that I almost forgot that she was there. I held her closer than I ever had and thought about what horrible thing Billy did. When I recalled what Dolly said, I shuddered.

 _That was why Hawkeye was so angry._

I closed my eyes, squeezing away the tears. No, that was not fair. Billy had the right to be innocent until proven guilty. But I knew in my heart that it was wrong of me to think him guiltless. Hawkeye had told me enough about his cousin that I could not form a positive opinion of him. His behavior at Thanksgiving reminded me too much of my stepfather. I just did not fathom the man reaching as low as Clarence and molesting little children.

Lucy brought the food at the promised time. I cut the cheeseburger in half and gave Shannon her fair share of sandwich and fries. We ate quietly for an hour and finished Hawkeye's pop. We also watched him carefully. He remained in the same position the whole time we had been at the establishment and did not move, not even with Lucy's begging. His partners just switched out once in a while.

Eddie came by a few minutes. He mentioned in passing that his room was open for us and that he had our change in clothes. When he tapped on his watch, he reminded me that it was Shannon's bedtime. It was best for her not to observe Hawkeye anymore.

I agreed. Shannon was getting sleepy anyway. I picked her up and followed Eddie to his room. He set up an extra mattress on his floor and even managed to make a curtain out of a few blankets, just like I had it in the Swamp. When he left, he promised to bring Hawkeye in here, hopefully not so drunk and calmed down. He didn't seem to have much faith in himself though.

Shannon and I changed and settled down. My daughter quickly fell asleep in my arms. I laid awake for quite some time, listening to the noises from the bar. Patrons came and went. Dinner plates clashed with forks and knives. The occasional drunk sang a song out of key. Even a fight broke out and was quickly extinguished.

When I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, all I kept thinking about was Clarence. Again and again, images of my teenage years came crashing down on me. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. I had endured three years of hell and fought a battle no woman could have won in the Army. I had gotten my way and my happily after ever. I had a loving husband and soon, two children.

And yet, there I was. I was thirty-one years old and still afraid of a shadow coming into my corner. All I had to thank was the scum that dared to enter _my_ home.

 _He will no longer. Billy has been banned for life._


	19. Accidents of War and Grief

_January 26, 1954  
Crabapple Cove, Maine_

 _Well, it seems that the tables have turned in so many ways. Just within a few weeks, from the last time I wrote until now, so much has happened that my head is spinning. Never mind that Hawkeye and I have colds and have been confined to the downstairs. Forget that I've been throwing up in a bucket next to the sofa. God forbid that I hobbled into this room to get away from my husband, daughter and father-in-law for a few minutes of peace!_

 _Daniel is been knocking on the door. He's yelling about laying down. I need to write this out. I can't sit on that couch with Hawkeye moaning so miserably. It's enough that I spilled tea on him to get him to shut up and focus on something else. I think throwing cough syrup is next._

 _But it's been the month of hell on just thought alone. I thought that a new year was supposed to be hopeful and cheery. The opposite has happened within the family. No, nobody has died. I mean, my mother is still missing, even after several inquiries turned up with nothing (and for that, Lorraine and I have truly given up and might have to declare her legally dead). It's just that Billy, Hawkeye's cousin, has been accused of molesting three young girls. The worst part is that he got away with it._

 _Nobody liked Billy to begin with (Dolly even said that their mother was not fond of him at birth and wanted nothing to do with him). There was always something off about him. I can say that it possibly contributed to the rash of family "accidents" that dominated Hawkeye and his cousins' childhoods. A fishing boat tipped over here, a car's brakes needing replacement there…I mean, there has been too many incidents with Billy around to say it wasn't a coincidence. This was plainly intentional, but there wasn't any proof._

 _From what I understand, Billy played himself off to be innocent all of these years. He grew up, married and has two children (one girl, one boy). His wife left him some years ago and they eventually filed for divorce (still in court). This left him to his own devices. He has a thriving career as a lawyer and works in Bath and sometimes drives north to Augusta. He is well known in the law community, but as a lawyer who gets criminals off the hook._

 _Well, so Hawkeye said anyway. But regardless of what his professional was, it also brought Billy into a lot of circles and all of them good and bad. There were the usual crowds around here. If his clients had children, he always saw them. If they had wives, he always talked with them. He could easily get his hands on anybody in the community he chose to. He had connections that rivaled mine in the Army._

 _This is where the troubles began. We don't know how many children he came into contact with, but Billy was going between his friends' and clients' houses and abusing the girls. Three of them came forwards with their parents. The courts threw it out immediately. From what I understand, Billy prevented it from ever coming out publicly. When he was threatened with being sued, he countered it with a suit of his own._

 _The family did not find out until just before the dinner. While I was paying more heed to the kitchen and my small world, the outside exploded and came into mine. It began small and then expanded. The tensions had been growing since Dolly found out through her friends. She told her father and it spread. By the time I was leaning against the kitchen counter, the confrontation began. Hawkeye and Daniel had just figured it out._

 _Hawkeye was so angry that he drank. Well, I should say that we left when the fighting started and went to Eddie's, where he indulged. We also stayed the night and the one after. Hawkeye remained by the bar and was so drunk by the time he was finished that I had to roll over to the other side of the room with a bucket and a jug of water I found, in case he threw up. We didn't return home for two days._

 _I think it was best anyway. Besides Hawkeye not being able to walk or even drive, I don't think I could have faced Billy or allowed Shannon to see the family. From what I understand, the animosity was thick enough to cut with a knife. And Billy…well, he was locked in a guest bedroom for those two days before he managed to escape. He thought it was a good idea since everybody wanted his head and he had no way to drive away (especially with Dolly so close) until the coast was cleared._

 _In the two days we stayed with Eddie, I had time to think. Shannon wasn't too upset by the arrangement, but it still upset me. But I had to keep her away from my own demons and Hawkeye's drunken ones. The thought of Billy touching those girls brought a chill. While I never liked to think back to those horrible times of mine, they still came and went. Mostly, it was at night. When I laid in the dark, watching my daughter's chest rise and fall, I would imagine being in my bedroom in Bloomington. Then, my mind either went blank or will fall into the abyss._

 _Hawkeye was far easier to deal with if he was not sleeping. While the day brought him another opportunity to argue and bitch about his cousin (and being in Korea) or to put money down on the counter for another drink, I found it simple to go out the back door. Not only was ignoring him simple, I discovered more about the town that way other than going to the grocery store. There was a small library, a few other bars, a tax office and some odds and ends. I wasn't allowed to go into all of them, but hoped to have Hawkeye's permission soon._

 _Avoiding him was the only thing that confused my daughter. She always wanted to play the princess and pinned Hawkeye to be her rescuer. Seeing him like this broke my heart for her and explaining to her that Hawkeye was intoxicated was difficult. I couldn't find the words to tell Shannon that Hawkeye was drunk and upset. The best I could come up with was that he was sick and that we had to stay away._

 _Yes, it was weak. But I didn't know what else to tell her! What we experienced in Korea was enough to make me sink to my knees in grief. To put it behind me was something I relished and ate up like a starving child scarfing down the first meal of the day. There was not anything as a parent that told me that I had to enlighten my daughter on the finer points of drinking to kill pain. It's a hard lesson I hope she'll never learn._

 _Daniel called Eddie and told him the siege was over and that Billy left. That was when we went home. It didn't end Hawkeye's drinking binge though. For two more days, he sat in the kitchen or back porch and drank. He didn't go to work and Daniel didn't even try to drag him in (the excuse was that he was ill). The guilt, shame and anger on Hawkeye's face was enough to make us believe that time will heal this if we left him to his own devices. To force it would have damaged all of us._

 _Hawkeye wasn't quite the same afterward. He went back to work like a robot. He went about the rest of his day mechanically too. He was blunt, forceful and rude when he dealt with any of us, his father included. Mostly, he just paced between the living room and back porch. He drank, but it wasn't enough to allow his wits to escape him._

 _Little by little, he began to act like a human being again. Almost a week ago, he even acted like a clown and had Shannon chase him up and down the stairs before he went to work. I had to chide him, but I was laughing. It was the first time Hawkeye had been himself since the revelations about his cousin._

 _Everything calmed down until this cold came upon us. Life came and went like Billy and our short tenure at Eddie's did not happen. Hawkeye went back to the clinic and even increased his hours. But I never forgot. It may have clouded our holiday dinner, but it also taught us a lesson. We still could stumble. If Hawkeye and I did not watch it, one wrong step will turn our lives around._

 _We cannot afford it. There was so much good in our lives right now that we could not allow the bad to come in. Korea, predators and drinking are something that popped our bubble easily. It cannot happen again._

 _BJ's words also come to mind. Will something happen, when things seem so carefree? Should I be prepared for the worst? Or should I allow this small victory shadow this episode? I don't know yet. Time will tell. For now, I think I'll try to get out of here and sleep. I can't think anymore…_

~00~

I moaned in my sleep and began waking up. It was a tough night and my mind whirled with all sorts of nightmares. I was hoping that I would wake up before Shannon and get the coffee going and relax. When I got up though, I realized that I was not in my room in Crabapple Cove. The cold floor beneath my feet belonged in the guest bedroom in Bloomington. My daughter was not with me. Only Hawkeye came with me to this hellhole and Lorraine was on my other side.

And today was another day in this wintry midwestern wasteland. It was the day after Mom's funeral, when all of the legalities had to be observed and her estate was going to be dispersed and the will read. The lawyer was supposed to meet us in his office at ten with a copy of her wishes. Daddy was also coming with us.

I heard some yelling and arguing downstairs. Groaning, I got up and wrapped myself in Hawkeye's red robe. I wasn't surprised. My brothers were here too. Tom, Paul, Richard, Jeremy and Caulfield were all drunk and had been for days now, for some reason or another. Even though I had been the only holding down this fort, the five had been more interested in raiding the last of Mom's alcohol and buying more. It meant day and night (except when helping me pick the casket, arranging the flowers and attending the church services for Mom), they were drinking.

Granted, I should have expected it. The last time I saw them, I visited them and my grandmother. They decided that the US was going downhill and settled in postwar Holland. Falk and I had days and days we did not remember anything because all we did was drink. My grandmother was no better. She drank me under the table on gin alone and was still going when I was in bed. If she was still alive, she would done the same with Hawkeye, I'm sure.

The age difference was huge between us (Tom, the youngest, was thirteen years older, Caulfield fourteen, Richard fifteen, Paul seventeen and Jeremy nineteen). It was awkward to meet them when my childhood robbed us of many opportunities and their adulthood did not allow them to indulge or spend time with their only sister. Meeting them again was no different. While I was still a little youthful at thirty-one (and pregnant too), Jeremy was already a grandfather twice over. Paul was waiting for his grandchild to be born.

There wasn't much to say to five older men who mostly drank and talked of their wives with reverence (and also patted each other in the back and exclaimed how they'll never know they were drinking). But I tried to make nice, especially since they already tried to make off with Mom's personal items, and tolerated their intoxication. I wasn't much better in the past (and Hawkeye was joining them more times than I counted) and could not say anything.

Regardless, I was so tired and fatigued as I made my way down the stairs and overlooked the past. When I entered the kitchen though, I gasped and held onto the door frame for support. The place was a mess. I mean, the Swamp was nothing compared to what my brothers did. Two of them were lying under the small table, one still drinking from a vodka bottle and the other already sleeping in a puddle of his own vomit. One was slumped in the doorway to the living room, spraying scotch in the general vicinity. The last two were throwing up in the sink.

The food was all over the place, either smeared, spilled or dripping, from the ceiling to the floor. The stove was overturned and already in pieces. The china was smashed and the shards stuck up like predators waiting for its bare footed prey. The hutch was doubled over like a man with a hot appendix. Oh, and the table that two of them were under? The legs had been chopped off and the top was about a few inches from the ground. Where they were, I couldn't say.

I had enough. "What the _hell_ is going on here?!" I yelled.

Jeremy was under the table. He put his bottle down. "Oh, c-c-c-c-co-come on, Jeanie Pie. Co-c-c-c-c-co-come h-h-h-h-ere for a k-k-ki-kiss!"

I walked over and slapped him. The blow was so hard that the bottle flew from his hands. I didn't care about the shock on his face. I was so furious that, in the condition I was in, that I had to contend with my mother's estate, the fact that she was hidden in a church and it was an open secret, the burial that had been brutal and that a community pretended to be sympathetic. Jeremy could have gone to hell, for all I cared. He and the others did _nothing_ to help. He knew nothing of the pain I suffered since my father came to Crabapple Cove to tell me of her death or of the anguish I had to put aside to get this done.

I could have gone on and on about it. I could have told them that Lorraine Blake was a bigger helping hand then they were or that they were too immature to care about Mom. After all, I had been holding her hand and lying to her since I was a child and she ran off with my stepfather and they had been too self-absorbed in their selfishness to look after their kid siblings. It was just me and Dean then.

 _And now, there is just me._

Hawkeye appeared right behind me. "Jeanie, why don't you go and read some letters?" he asked, pulling me to the front room. "I heard Lorraine had some mail for us."

"What?" I looked at him fiercely.

"Get dressed and go next door," Hawkeye instructed. "I'll take care of this."

I protested until Hawkeye practically shoved me upstairs and started dressing me. By then, I had enough and shooed him away. I was far too tired to deal with his inane ministrations and he was a nuisance, to boot. Everybody was on my last nerve. All I wanted to do was finished this awful business and go home.

Yet, there was no clear way out. Mom had left a legal mess. Clarence died while I was in Korea. He was supposed to be there to handle her estate. Dean was second and he was dead. I was third in line. Even though I could not legally handle it (and lucky for me, Hawkeye insisted in coming), I still had to take charge of this situation and straightened out the disorganization of her affairs. Hell, it was bad enough that Mom hid from everybody and instructed the church to never tell anybody her whereabouts. She took sanctuary when it was not needed…and paid the price dearly.

I pulled on my warmest clothes and headed next door. Waiting on the stoop after fifteen or more knocks, I shivered. All I could think about was the last cold night I was there, begging for help. The only difference was that I was bleeding on that horrible night. Now, I was a mother of one little girl, caring for my mother one last time, and almost everybody I knew was dead, either from war or sickness. It was a realization that I could not face.

Lorraine finally opened the door. "Jeanie, get inside! You'll catch your death out here."

"Gee, _thanks_ ," I replied sarcastically. I stomped the snow off of my boots and entered. Lorraine closed the cold behind us. "Hawkeye said you had mail for us. How did it get here?"

" _Somebody_ tipped off a few of your friends," Lorraine revealed mysteriously. "An address was forwarded and the letters came swiftly. _Viola!_ " Her hands showed me a stack of letters, fanned out like a deck of cards in poker in her hands. "I'm sure people feel sad about your mother."

I sighed. "They did not know her."

"No, but I'm sure the sentiment was right. Jeanie, you might not have done enough. But thinking about what you did…some of it was right. Some of it was not. There is no right way, I guess. There was no use in making you stay here. Your mind was already made up."

"If you have a child waiting for you, wouldn't you go? Wouldn't you forget everybody else but her?"

"Without hesitation." Lorraine handed me all the letters and kissed my forehead. "Now, get your coat off. I have breakfast if your stomach can handle it."

"I'll try," I mumbled. I hadn't been up to food the last few days and that was worrisome.

After shucking off my coat and boots, Lorraine directed me to the sofa in her living room. I sat down and ignored the noises from the TV show Andrew was watching. The letters in my hands were intriguing, to say the least. The first one was from Greg Keller. It was short and to the point. It mentioned his sadness on Mom's passing and then went right to business.

 _Remember how I told you about Flagg? That he went missing? Well, there is a trail. He's not dead. I think he's in hiding. I can't tell yet whether it's on purpose or not. Time will tell. For the time being, keep your eyes opened. He's mostly likely onto something and it's not about him. It's about us._

I would have dismissed the assumption, but I had to think about it. Greg mentioned that Flagg loved me from the beginning and would have done anything to have me, even going as far as killing. I suspected that he killed Falk and all of the women who worked under me. He hardly touched Hawkeye and that was possibly because Love had a keener sense of direction and played more games than Flagg. That did not mean anything though.

Agitated, I put his missive down and put a hand to my stomach. The baby was kicking vigorously, enough that my hand bounced. Entranced, I watched this for a while. I did the same thing with Shannon and it never failed to entertain me for hours.

Hawkeye interrupted this an hour later. He gently put a hand to my shoulder from behind. "We have to go meet the lawyer," he reminded me. "General Heartless will be there."

I nodded and got up. I took the letters with me. I had every intention of reading them on the ride to the office. Yet, something bothered me. It wasn't my lack of effort in finding Mom, for I knew that there was no saving her. It wasn't just the grief, leaning on me heavily, or the pregnancy that should have waited, or even the wistful tears of a mother missing her daughter. It was a dark cloud. It wrapped itself around me and did not want to let go.

Hawkeye noted this as we stuffed ourselves in the car. "You all right?" he asked.

I shook my head as I tucked the envelopes under my leg. "Yes. No. I don't know."

After he started the car and began the journey downtown, he took my hand into his. We shifted from one gear to another together on the icy roads, even though it was tough. Once we reached the lawyer's office, we remained in the car for a few minutes more. Our excuse was waiting for my father (he hadn't arrived yet). It was more because Hawkeye wanted to ensure that I was ok.

I saw it in his eyes. There was no pity in there. It was pure concern. He saw how I felt after the news was broken and when the funeral and burial happened. He witnessed my frustrations with my brothers. It was a stress on my body that I wasn't supposed to take. I knew his next words even before he said them.

"I think you should have some bedrest as soon as this is done," he announced. "I can take care of your brothers."

"With what?" I laughed bitterly. "You hardly took care of the Marines at Rosie's. What makes you think you can handle children in their forties and fifties?"

"Pure luck," he replied. "My Superman strength and stamina will save the day."

"You can't lift your fat princess."

"Lois Lane, a fat princess? Oh, come now, you must have forgotten your tumble from the top of the _Daily Planet_."

"Metropolis is several thousand miles away, Kent. We're in the countryside and awaiting the farmers."

"Right you are." Hawkeye noted my father's car parking nearby. "Let's go find them, Lois."

It took some hours, but the estate was settled. Even in charge, I had to disperse with the goods as needed. Everybody was allowed their fair share of trivial items. What little money was left over went to the church, my brothers and my father (the ex-husband) after the bills were paid (in that order). The house was to be sold to cover for the other old debts. Anything that belonged to Dean was left to me.

The cold realization that my brother left me everything was startling. The lawyer had his affairs in order and only waited until my mother was cold and buried before settling it with me. The Army had not done us any favors and left everything to my mother. Since she didn't pay much attention to it, it fell on the lawyer and eventually to me and Hawkeye. Daddy wanted nothing to do with Dean's loss. At his mention, he stormed out of the office.

"Will you sign here, here and there?" the lawyer asked me and Hawkeye when the scene transformed back to normalcy.

As my brothers looked on, we put our signatures to everything. The control was in our hands. It will take some weeks to ensure the house was sold, the items were shipped home and everything was cleaned out, but it was our responsibility. The weight was heavy indeed, more so than ever before. Korea was nothing compared to this. This was another war and one I hope to win.

* * *

 **Hi, everyone! I am sorry about the filler chapter. There's more to come, I promise. :) Also, I do want to mention once more: THIS IS A FILL-IN SERIES FOR 1 I ALREADY CREATED! DO NOT review if you never read the rest of the stories before. Thank you!**


	20. Beware of the Thorns

_The wise man said, just find your  
Place, in the eye of the storm.  
Seek the roses along the way.  
Just beware of the thorns._

 _Here I am, will you  
Send me an angel?  
Here I am, in the land  
Of the morning star._

 _The wise man said, just raise your  
Hand and reach out for the spell.  
Find the door to the promises land,  
Just believe in yourself._

 _Hear this voice from deep inside.  
It's the call of your heart.  
Close your eyes and you will find  
The way out of the dark._

It was finally the last day in Bloomington. While we had been staying with Lorraine while Mom's house was assessed and sold to the highest bidder, it had been a dream to walk through the haunted walls one last time before hiding behind Lorraine. Afterward, I didn't even glance back. It was with new owners now. I had no responsibility for it anymore.

The house seemed so empty without all of the furniture, household knickknacks and insanity that dominated my life from the age of ten. My brothers had calmed down and taken what they wanted without the greed of drunks. Everything else was sold. I already shipped boxes back to Crabapple Cove in the preceding weeks. Lorraine was finalizing the last of it and keeping us occupied without cares until tomorrow's flight.

Most of all, I was tired. I missed my home and family most of all. Hawkeye had been the greatest support, but even he could not take away this deep sadness and the ongoing travails pregnancy brought. This truly was the close of an era. There was never going to be a happy ending with Mom because she made it that way and so did I.

But for some reason, I wasn't shaking this grief. I went from one life change to another without stopping or thinking. The war in Korea had ended just a month and a half after we married. Both Hawkeye and I went through breakdowns in between that madness. Then, we went home to Crabapple Cove and went through so changes there, good and bad, that it made my head spin. Then, my mother died and my father whisked us away to Bloomington. All time stopped when it was all over.

I mean, it was horrible the way Mom died. She starved herself to death and nobody in the church cared. She was so devout that her word was sacred. If she wanted to be left alone and to pray herself to death, so be it. What difference did it make, with her daughter, the neighbor and the police looking for her? Most certainly, the parish didn't care!

Eventually, everything just caught up to me, enough that I had to be bedridden when I was not working with the lawyer, packing up boxes or directing traffic. Hawkeye made sure of it. When I started sporting spots on my dresses the day the will was revealed, we both knew that this was too much all at once. I was so crushed into stress that I had to rest.

Even Lorraine treaded carefully. Ever since we moved right in with her after the house sold, she ensured that there was as little tension as possible. She did all of the cleaning (despite my protests), cooked all of the meals and ushered any bad news out the door. She was protecting me again and I knew it. There wasn't much she could have done when I was younger, but as an adult, there was a chance that she could make up for the past and secure the future.

On that last day, after lunch and calling home to confirm flight plans, Hawkeye decided to go outside to play with Janie, Molly and Andrew. This left me inside with Lorraine. She was bustling about and going a million miles a minute. The water was on high for dishes. The vacuum came and went, mostly under my puffy legs. Dirt flew everywhere when her feather duster was out. Every space possible was scrubbed and wiped down. Snowballs hit the window nearby my head too. Hawkeye sure was keeping the kids busy.

But there I was, writing in that journal again. I put in a few words about leaving the next day (nothing about how I was feeling yet) and closed the tome. I had nothing more to add. My mind thought back to those times when I hated writing. I didn't bother much until I was in Korea. Even then, it seemed like a chore that wrote a story in and of itself. It left behind a legacy that I wish I could erase.

 _There can be no such thing._ I shuddered.

Lorraine came by immediately, huffing and puffing. Her chores seemed to be piling up more and more, especially after Hawkeye and the children came back inside. With the snow all over the floors, she had enough mopping to do until tomorrow, at least. It didn't help much that the girls insisted on instigating more trouble. Already, Janie and Molly were hopping from one piece of furniture to another. While Andrew had a hard time keeping up, Hawkeye had no issues. He used to do it in the Swamp all the time.

"Do you need anything?" Lorraine asked carefully. She sat down beside me.

"No," I replied, ducking when a pair of legs passed over my head. "Maybe some peace and quiet?"

"Not in there," Lorraine confirmed. She eyed the foursome with a sigh. "I've given up typing to keep discipline in the house. Hawkeye isn't even my child and I can't tell him to stop."

"You keep them in line. I can see that. And I can handle Hawkeye. It takes practice."

"Jeanie, you don't understand. It's…tough without Henry. Janie and Molly remember him. Andrew cannot. And the girls took this harder than he did. He doesn't _understand_ why we're so sad."

She didn't need to elaborate. I put my hand on her sagging shoulders and then pulled her into a hug. It was harder on us too. We knew Henry far longer than the children being alive. All of those nonsensical, practical and fatherly things he did will never be seen again. That heavy loss alone still weighed greatly on everybody's shoulders and Lorraine bore all of it.

Lorraine broke the embrace. "I want to remember him yearly. Henry would have wanted it."

"Nothing fancy," I teased. I felt a back cramp and tried not to wince. It broke into a crooked smile.

"No," she conceded, "but definitely something he would have done for an anniversary. People he cared for and those he loved, coming together to have a drink."

The idea floated in my mind for a second. I smiled wider. "I like that."

"What do you like?" Hawkeye stopped bouncing for a minute and joined us. The children continued on without him.

"We'll talk about it later," I quickly said to end the topic. I didn't want to think about Henry at the moment.

Our wordless conversation began though. When Lorraine made an excuse to get the children rounded up, Hawkeye moved in closer. When he put his hand on my pregnant body, I nodded that this was another day where I needed to sit, but not enough to go to the hospital and delay the flight. My head also motioned to pictures of Henry on the walls and drinking to his memory. Hawkeye understood, but was sad about it. He blinked back tears and put his head on my shoulder to hide it.

I had to soak in Hawkeye's sadness too. It was tough. Jesus Christ, how many drinks could we toast in the name of Henry Blake? How many more died like him, in the supposed name of liberty? How many days shall we mourn the war? How many dead do we need to remember too, from a land we hardly knew until recently?

When Hawkeye parted from my shoulder with the same unanswered enquiries, we resolved to be as normal as we could be. The rest was the day was solemn and spoke of no goodbyes. We tried to keep the smiles on our faces and laughter in our voices, but it was so forced that we had to keep silence when the façade could not be kept. Late at night, Hawkeye and I headed upstairs and packed the last of our things and went to bed together. We held each other all night, not sleeping.

It was going to be a long trip back. Everything was also going to be different. But all I had inside of me was emptiness. Not even the guilt that plagued me tapped me on the shoulders. I had the darkness for comfort and that was all I could embrace now.

~00~

I couldn't remember the trip back home well except the spotting and the cramping that woke me up my sleepiness. I did know that I went straight to bed as soon as Daniel parked the car, without saying hello to anyone. Hawkeye would have ordered it anyway. It was bad enough he had to support me up the slippery stairs and to our bedroom.

Shadows and images came and went. Dreams seemed so real and reality was equally surreal. I couldn't get up. It wasn't just the depression that tied me down. It was the pregnancy and past illnesses. It truly was a nightmare. To move, walk and talk was painful. I didn't want to burden anybody and took care of myself, Shannon and the house as much as I could. Daniel and Hawkeye figured out the rest.

Shannon came to the bedroom and curled up with me often throughout the cold days that followed. I appreciated the warmth and innocence she came with. There was something different she gave to me. Drawings she did on empty patient pages. Melted snow mixed with sand from outside. Babbles about her day and what happened. Giggles from her and Hawkeye. She was truly a gift and I blamed myself enough for missing so much of her life. I was at fault for not being there for her.

Other things whirled around the house without my say-so. There was arguing downstairs pretty often too, mostly between my husband and father-in-law. Hawkeye didn't like some idea Daniel had and they battled over it every night. When I strained my ears once, to finally hear what was wrong, I heard them talking about driving me to Portland and seeing another doctor. Hawkeye didn't want me to see Cochran and his "cronies" and Daniel said there was no choice.

The argument went around and _around_. After about a month of this, Hawkeye caved in. He made the appointment and drove me there one early spring day. I was already six months pregnant.

The doctor wasn't Cochran, but some other associate close to him named Guy Mooch. Immediately, I something off about him. He didn't acknowledge me and just sat down, writing things down without saying anything. Quickly, I asked for Hawkeye to be in the room with me. It was an unusual request that was granted.

Hawkeye sprinted in and stayed with me as the initial questions were asked. When Mooch was finished, I gave a brief summary of what happened, from the time we were in Korea until now, and described all of the strain we endured. Hawkeye supplied some other details when I didn't elaborate or couldn't remember.

Mooch continue to take everything down and nodded every so often. "So, you were in the Army for…how many years before the Korean police action started?"

Calling our time in Korea a police action annoyed me. I also didn't see a point in the inquiry, but answered anyway. "Ten years."

"You didn't marry during that time? Have children? _Want_ to be a wife and mother?"

"I don't think this has any bearing for the issues at hand."

"Answer the questions please."

I looked at Hawkeye. He was trying _very_ hard not to jump out of his chair and come to my defense. I saw his muscle tense, but his tongue was still. I expected a retort to come out. In this professional environment though, he might be keeping his job and the roof over our heads by keeping his mouth shut.

"I didn't think about it," I admitted honestly. "I was engaged once before and that was it. I didn't want children at that point in my life."

"I see." Mooch didn't look up and continued to write. "So, you were unnatural."

 _Now_ , Hawkeye jumped in. "Now, I don't see a point in the comments. _Doctor_ – and I am calling you this because of the supposed degree you have – my wife needs some answers, not you asking her for a personal history that has little to do with what society wants from her. So what if she didn't want to marry and have children in her twenties? So what if she was in the Army for ten years? Does it mean that I was wrong to do the same thing?"

"It wasn't expected of _you_ to have a husband and start a family," Mooch countered. Again, there was no eye contact. "It is of women of Mrs. Pierce's station. If they are able and ready, they can marry and have children. She chose not to and is obviously too old to be carrying a baby." He paused. "Now, _Doctor_ , I think that being in the Army caused her an imbalance. She needs to get out of bed and walk around. Be normal."

"She _bleeds_ when she does activity," Hawkeye protested. "She is right now, getting from her bed to here. What the hell is she supposed to do for that?"

Mooch ignored Hawkeye and continued his rampage about how I wasn't acting like a woman. Hawkeye argued on almost every point and began calling Mooch names. The two finally saw each other on the same physical level and started yelling, to the point where the receptionist came in to ask what the noise was about. Eventually, the doctor gave up and prescribed some pills. He said there was nothing wrong with me except laziness and to just take care of my family and all will be well.

On the way out, Hawkeye found a trash bin and threw the papers in, prescription and all. "I was right," he said. "Dad was trying to get us to be normal."

"Bad gossip in the office?" I asked. I grabbed Hawkeye's hand and squeezed, I was in so much pain as we walked to the Packard.

"Worse," he confirmed. "Medical community doesn't like at-home work."

"We've taken care of each other for years now," I pointed out. "I think we can handle it for now. Just drive me to the hospital when I'm in labor."

"You think we're going to try it at home?" Hawkeye kissed me.

I didn't think so either and shook my head to prove that I agreed. I then changed the topic and talked about the weather. It had almost been a year since I moved to Maine. Spring here came closer than it did than in Illinois. I was intrigued about it and was peppering Hawkeye with questions about it. The ride home consisted of the same question and answer bantering and was pleasant. However, as soon as we pulled into the driveway, I saw that Daniel stood on the porch, arms crossed. He was angry.

I opted to stay in the car. It was easier to observe than to be in the middle. However, Hawkeye didn't catch my signals and was trying to get me out of the passenger side when his father came to us. I scooted to the edge of the seat and tried to stand and pass them on my own. Hawkeye kept me suspended in my position while his eyes remained on Daniel.

"How the _hell_ could you be so stupid?" Daniel demanded.

"What are you talking about?" Hawkeye said weakly. His hands remained entwined in mine.

"I thought you were pretty hotheaded when you were younger. Now? _Now_ , I think you've taken it too many steps further."

"What the _hell_ are you talking about, Dad?"

"Cochran called," Daniel thundered. "He didn't like his associates being yelled at and called names."

Hawkeye dropped my hands and faced his father fully. "Mooch said there was nothing wrong with Jeanie. He decided to ask her some crap about her Army life and why being pregnant now was because she was an unnatural woman."

"Hawkeye, you know better than to insult a fellow doctor! It doesn't matter if he's a jackass. You could have walked away and found another."

"Yeah, like _who_? Everybody is so scared of Cochran that they sing the same song!"

The two went back and forth and it grew louder the more they talked. By then, most of the neighbors had stuck their heads out of their windows and doors. A million eyes were on us. It felt so uncomfortable that I struggled out of the car and staggered into the house myself. I was having a tough time though. Walking from the bed to the car, then from the car to the appointment, and back again was a chore. Compared to the first time I came through that door, this was a Herculaneum task.

Daniel and Hawkeye didn't stop bickering until they saw me in the doorway. By the time I was leaning against the doorway for support, Hawkeye was right next to me. Before I knew it, he was grunting as he picked me up and carried me inside. He deposited me right on the couch next to Shannon. She was coloring again and didn't stop until Daniel came back inside.

"Mommy all better?" Shannon asked me.

"As good as Mommy can be," I answered her. I smiled to show her that I was supposedly better.

"Don't lie to her," Hawkeye warned me.

"I'm not," I replied. I began to get up again. "I am not taking this and not in front of our daughter. I'm going to bed."

Hawkeye was going to protest when there was a knock on the door. Daniel answered it and immediately shielded us from seeing our visitor. By the way he stuttered to this person without saying a name, it was someone Hawkeye and I didn't wish to see. It didn't take a genius to guess who was there.

"Mrs. Pettigrew can come in," I said quickly.

Hawkeye and Daniel glared at me awkwardly. While the former stared at me in shock, the latter gathered his senses again and stepped to one side so that the neighbor could enter. When Daniel closed the door behind him, Mrs. Pettigrew's presence grew. The shadow between of us was a large one still. I still was angry for her for playing that game with us. However, I wasn't going to deny hospitality, even when I just came home.

"I will excuse present company," Mrs. Pettigrew began sharply, nodding to me and Shannon. She then turned to Daniel and Hawkeye. "Have you two lost your _minds_? Isn't it enough that there's enough trouble on your doors without having to bring the whole street in on your business? You two should have known better! Did anybody teach you right about decency and kindness?"

Mrs. Pettigrew swelled bolder. She ranted and raved for a few minutes, to the point where my husband and father-in-law hung their heads in shame. When she was finished, she apologized to them again and came to me. Kneeling, she took my hands into her.

It surprised me. I didn't expect her compassion (albeit the chastising was). I wanted to yank my hand away from her, but stopped myself. It was childish to turn away the gesture. When I met her eyes to analyze her motives, there was nothing except sympathy. She understood all too well and was trying to save us from ourselves.

In that moment, I thought she was a sort of angel. Within the storming, she was the eye. Within the chaos, she was the referee that directed calmness.

"Let's get you to bed, Jeanie," Mrs. Pettigrew just said. She helped me up and allowed me to lean against her.

Up the stairs we went. It was a slow and steady progress. Upon entry to my bedroom, Mrs. Pettigrew closed the door. She sat me on the bed and helped me to undress and redress with the gentleness of a nurse. Everything was thrown into a corner for the moment. It can be cleaned up later.

After she tucked me in and left to go downstairs, a thought hit me. I bolted up and almost laughed. Mrs. Pettigrew had just called me Jeanie. Our relationship had taken a new step.

* * *

 **Song lyrics are from the Scorpions' song "Send Me an Angel".**


	21. Nighttime Company

It was a strange arrangement. While Mrs. Pettigrew and I did not speak of it, we had grown into a new routine of our own. As the pregnancy progressed into something that made me homebound (more ailments confined me to bed), she was there to pick up the mantle and leave me control all at once. With Larry on her side, Mrs. Pettigrew helped us around the house with an ease I had never seen in a woman before. She was also in charge of my progress, making sure I was eating, medicating and resting. I never had better care.

While I wasn't coherent for long periods of time and was often sleeping, I still managed to run a household without rushing around myself. Oddly enough, it was Mrs. Pettigrew who made me understand what was going on by running over the shopping, cleaning and other chores. It was through her prodding that everything was in order and I was still resting in bed without the overwhelming feeling of being a daughter, mother and wife. She even made me feel like I was still a decent parent and found ways for me to spend time with Shannon.

We never talked of the past again. It had been erased and all had been forgiven. The day in the doorway marked a new beginning and one that we didn't see coming either. I saw it in her eyes and she saw mine too. She didn't expect me to be so receptive of her love. She picked up the pieces and gathered them together, glued to a new picture. It was the best that any war nurse could do.

By the last weeks of April, when the windows were opened and warm air came from the ocean, there was better news. Without my knowledge, Hawkeye and his Dad decided that there should be a 4077th reunion still and began working with Colonel Potter and Radar some more since my bedrest didn't allow me to plan. Letters and calls had flown to and from the house in between Mrs. Pettigrew's madness. Pretty quickly, more and more people flocked to the idea of seeing each other again and socializing postwar. The heat was literally on!

Daniel and Hawkeye sat with me one evening to tell me the news over cards. It was our new evening custom, if I was well enough and Mrs. Pettigrew said I was strong enough. After Shannon went to bed, the three of us would sit on the bed and play a game of cards. We took turns naming the game. Mostly, we played poker with chips (with Hawkeye moaning that I was not there to strip anymore). Sometimes, when the nights were long and none of us could sleep (which was very rare), we played spades or war.

This night, Hawkeye began dealing for spades. He brought in a few bottles of scotch that he and Daniel split. I had a glass of red wine. I hardly touched it though because something else caught my attention. I noted that Hawkeye was antsy. He was anxious to tell me something and the room grew into excitement. I didn't ask him how and why. I waited as patiently as I could. Eventually, as the game progressed and I grew tired with each hand, he mentioned something about company.

"How many people?" I asked gently. I wanted to be prepared.

Daniel cleared his throat and put down a card. "Well, people will be coming in and out for maybe a month or so. You know this."

This interested me. "Is this some party the neighbors are having?"

"No, _we_ are," Hawkeye clarified. "Remember? The reunion?"

I was a tad surprised. I thought I recalled something about a reunion. " _What_? Who the hell is coming?"

Hawkeye tried to keep the smile from his face, but failed as his lips drew a wide line. "Most of the camp is coming. We're having the 4077th reunion here this year. Don't you remember?"

I was so happy about the reality of the situation that I couldn't speak. I looked at Daniel and then Hawkeye, alternating between the two of them to confirm this event. When neither denied it and that all of our planning was set in stone and the scheming came to a million things, I squealed. I put my hands to my mouth to suppress a loud laugh. I didn't want to wake Shannon up.

"When again?" I knew my father-in-law said it was lasting a month, but not the dates.

"May into June is still the agreed-upon dates," Daniel answered. "That'll give plenty of time for everybody to see each other."

Already, everybody was making plans. The usual gang managed to keep the same dates open, but there were a couple of problems I didn't want to voice yet. It's not just people who hated each other. It's the things we did in Korea. Camp drama and inane activities were entertaining when there was nothing to do. Take me and Hawkeye, for example. He'd think it was a complete afternoon if he sat and drank while I hung out my underwear to dry. Or I would find it hilarious that he'd instigate a fight between Charles and BJ and sit back to watch the action.

Was this to be our antics in civilian life too? Were we to forever be indebted to the childish ways we kept ourselves sane? Or was life to be one endless glow, from one position of power to another?

I kept the thoughts to myself and continued the game without showing my doubts. Those tired me out. Although enthused, I wasn't one for keeping up late hours and asked for an early bedtime. By the time the first round of cards ended, I was nodding off anyway. My wine was finished and both companions were on their third bottle of scotch. It was bedtime for all of us.

Hawkeye cleaned up, shooed his Dad out and curled up behind me. After the lights went out, he was a mess, albeit in a positive way. He was tossing and turning and mumbling about something. He named Trapper and Frank a few times. Oddly enough, it wasn't an OR session, or else he would have been yelling. It seemed that he was either caught in the moment of fun or was somehow pranking Frank with Trapper. It was a good dream.

But it didn't allow me to rest, despite the deep fatigue. Indeed, I was fidgety. For weeks now, I was sick and stuck in bed. I knew what was going on in the household and why and, while infuriating that I can't do it myself, was trustful that everything was running smoothly. Something was missing though…and my cravings told me all the rest. Nobody was going to indulge them except for me.

I heaved myself out of bed. It was difficult. The baby was so heavy now and I couldn't imagine another two months of growth remained, it was so sore. I was also so unused to movement that I almost fell. I felt protests of pain elsewhere, but I ignored it. The kitchen was my destination. I sure as hell was going to get there and scoop out a bowl of ice cream.

I don't know how I managed to get downstairs by myself. It was a slow and steady progress with a lot of leaning and near misses. Resting against a counter for a respite was the reward for my perseverance. It took me a few minutes to catch my breath, but when I managed to, I felt so proud of myself. It had taken me so much to walk downstairs. It was an accomplishment that I was willing to bask in as I ate some ice cream.

I pulled out the necessary utensils and a bowl and began the assault on the refrigerator. I acted as normally as I could, especially when I heard two sets of urgent footsteps racing to the kitchen. When I pulled myself out of the cold, I turned to see Daniel and Hawkeye in the doorway, looking at me. They were shocked and trying to catch their own breath. Hawkeye especially was upset, but he kept it as lowkey as he could.

I put the ice cream to soften on the counter and met them calmly. "What?"

"We thought you –" Hawkeye began in a rush.

Daniel interrupted him with a gentle hand to Hawkeye's shoulder. He was also pretty dismayed to see me up. "We thought you needed some help."

"No," I replied softly. I smiled and almost laughed to see their dismay. "I was hungry. I wanted some ice cream."

"You were… _hungry_?" Hawkeye asked me. He came forward and took my hands into his. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I am hungry. Is there something wrong with that?"

"No. No, no, no!" Hawkeye let go of me and turned to his Dad. "Did you hear that? She's hungry!" He laughed like a madman and danced around the kitchen.

Tired, Daniel had to lead Hawkeye out. He shook his head as he mumbled about his son's lunacy. Once Hawkeye was on his own and upstairs in bed, Daniel called out that he'll be in the living room if I needed some help getting back to bed. He wasn't sleeping tonight.

"I'll be all right," I reassured my father-in-law. "I'm not sleeping either."

Something was keeping me up. The baby was bouncing nonstop and kicking hard and that was a huge factor for the insomnia. But there was something else too and I couldn't name it, so I dismissed the notion. When the ice cream was soft enough to scoop into a bowl, I started portioning my midnight snack. As I did, something caught my eye. I thought that Daniel had reentered the kitchen and was watching me because the shadow was a person. When I glanced up to say something to him, I saw nothing.

 _Huh?_ It was strange.

I concentrated again on my task, ignoring the feeling that somebody was watching me intently. When I was finished, I put the dessert away and turned around to see the same thing again. It disappeared as fast as it came though. It was almost like it went from the kitchen through the wall to the back porch.

I felt my heart in my throat. My sleepless mind was either playing tricks on me or I was hallucinating something. There was another explanation, but I wasn't ready to face it yet. I had seen so much that was supernatural and unusual that I wasn't sure what to believe. As a practical nurse and a san human being (I hoped), I had to brush it aside. I was pregnant and sick. There were going to be things that will catch my fancy and I was too emotional, to boot.

It was best to just eat and enjoy. Whatever I saw wasn't threatening. It was concerning. Until I found out what it was, it wasn't of any use to dwell on it.

I settled in the living room with Daniel. He was reading a newspaper and grumping here and there about the politics. I ignored him and scrapped as much as I could of the dairy, going as far as licking the edges of the bowl like a fool. When I was finished, he got up and put everything in the sink for me, saying that I shouldn't be cleaning. When he returned, he appeared strange.

"Well, doesn't it look like you've seen a ghost?" I joked. "You don't have to work today, do you?"

"No, not today," he replied carefully as he sat down. "Mrs. Pettigrew can stay home."

I scooted closer. "Is something wrong?"

Daniel had a take a minute to think about his answer. When he spoke, I knew that he felt ridiculous doing so. "Jeanie, do you believe in the afterlife?"

I laughed. "I think people believe what they may. We don't know what happens after death. We all have an idea and religions preach what we face if we don't do certain things. Why?"

My father-in-law nodded. "Sometimes, it feels like we have more company in the house than the living, is all."

There was that feeling again – terror of the unknown. I put my hand to my throat to still the rapid beating. I wasn't the only one attuned to the shadows. Daniel had seen them too.

"When you see so much death, you get used to walking past bodies without throwing up," he continued. "Even then, you're still haunted by what you've seen. I've had to watch my wife and daughter die, right here in this house. I was too powerless to save them."

Daniel choked up. He kept himself in check and took a deep breath. I reached for his hand and took it with a weak grip. He returned it, but it was as lax as mine.

"I know." I had so much empathy for him, but I kept my grief to myself. It was best to bask in his dark night this time.

"I thought I was going to lose Hawkeye too," Daniel added. No trace of grief lined his voice now. "He barely survived. He was very lucky. He used to joke around that I was picking up on the housework more and more often while his mother remained in bed. But that's how he always looked at life, especially since they died. Everything is one joke after another."

We remained quiet. It was a hard to follow up with this revelation. Hawkeye never talked much about that time because of how painful it is. Daniel had revealed a side to me that he never showed too many others. It also revealed so much more. He too had to remain strong. When everything else was chaos, he had to show that he alone stood calm amongst it.

He was as lost as I am. My father-in-law chose to hang onto those around him that drifted afloat in the ocean too. It was a way for him and many others to survive.

"I hope you all understand that whatever is out there, it cannot hurt you more than what you've experienced," Daniel finally said. The silence seemed deafening to him that he had to talk. "I also hope that you all know that it'll pass. You'll see."

I let go of Daniel's hand as he got up. He concluded that he wanted to take a short walk alone. He knew that I wasn't going to join him and told me that he'll make coffee and breakfast when he returned and I was welcome to it if I was well enough. He grabbed his coat from the closet and walked out into the dawn. When I heard him cry out suddenly, I pushed myself off of the couch and waddled outside as quickly as I could.

It was the first time in some weeks that I stepped outside. Without cover of my own the cold air was crushing. I blinked as the rising sun painted my face and tried locating Daniel. I saw him hunched over the railing on the left. He kept staring at some plant. His mouth was open in shock, worse than Hawkeye seeing me in the kitchen some hours ago.

I inched closer and saw what he was upset about. It was the mountain laurel bush. Hawkeye told me that it stopped blooming flowers the year his mother and sister died. I peeked over the railing with Daniel, thinking it was destroyed, and that I would have to comfort my father-in-law in the loss.

No. _No._ The bush had bloomed. A small bunch of white and pink flowers waved as a light dawn breeze passed by.

The two of us gazed at the miracle for a few minutes. It was almost like we were both lost in time. I almost imagined a little girl, maybe similar to my daughter, but dismissed it as imagination when reality set in. It was only a scrub. It was bound to flower again. This year just happened to be a coincidence.

That was what I kept telling myself. However, in my heart, I knew it was wrong. This wasn't just a coincidence. It was life coming back when there was so much death.

"I guess somebody is trying to tell us something," Daniel finally said. His mouth worked out a crooked grin that was so awkward that I thought he was trying not to break down.

"Maybe," I replied carefully. I didn't want to invoke anything supernatural or insist something out of this world happened. "Maybe this year, something good will happen. We'll see…"

~00~

After seeing the mountain laurel bloom, I was not keen on jumping out of my bed anytime soon. Seeing ghosts outside of Korea – shadows and otherwise – also unnerved me. The excursion had tired me out so much that I wasn't willing to leave my room for anything physical or mental except for emergencies. I was leaving everything in the capable hands of my family and Mrs. Pettigrew. I could not afford to dwell on the complicated matters anymore.

However, one incident that wasn't a crisis forced me to come downstairs. It was a couple of weeks after the occurrence outside. May had arrived. While the ocean was still too cold to swim in, the warmness of spring beckoned. The sunshine also brought Shannon outside. She'd beg Mrs. Pettigrew, Daniel and then me and Hawkeye to run in the sand anytime she could get away with it.

Eventually, when she exhausted her efforts, Shannon surprised me. One evening, she came upstairs to the bedroom with Daniel and Hawkeye. She stood before them, caught up in their excitement as they struggled to keep a secret. Both of them wore grins on their faces and hid their hands behind their backs. Something definitely conspired and the two worked together. I _knew_ it.

I was attempting to read another novel. I put the tome down and met their gazes. "Yes?"

"I was hoping you'd come downstairs," Hawkeye plainly said.

"Why? Is there something you need me to do?"

"Not _exactly_ , but I'd love to see my lovely wife adorn a –"

"We've got a present for you," Daniel interrupted. "It's downstairs."

I sighed, exasperated. "I'll be down in a few minutes."

"Never fear, Superman is here," Hawkeye jumped in. He rushed to my side of the bed and was pulling me out in protest. He also wasn't so gentle.

I continued my complaints vigorously, even when Hawkeye got me to the living room and stood me in the middle, demanding me to close my eyes. I expected him to bring me somewhere else. I was confused when he didn't and obliged his silly request. In the background, I heard my daughter giggling behind me and Daniel dragging something across the floor nearby. From what I heard, it was pretty bulky for him to carry on his own.

"Ok, open your eyes," Hawkeye ordered.

What I saw almost took my breath away. The pair had gotten me a rocking chair. Daniel situated it between the fireplace and the front window. He even put an ottoman in front of it for my feet.

Hawkeye read my nonverbal words and held me closer, accepting the thanks from my stilled lips. He seemed relieved that I was happy. But when he decided to place me in my new spot, he made sure I was comfortable, fussing over pillows behind my back and how my legs were positioned. Eventually, I barked at him to stop and to let me settle down on my own. I even threw the pillows at his head in frustration.

Shannon watched the action from the stairs and waited until I was relaxed before crawling into my lap. At first, it was difficult. She was so heavy. Having the baby between us complicated many things as well, least of which was room. But Shannon found a way to curl right into me. Her arms wrapped around my stomach and her head rested just so, between the arm of the chair and my left side.

"Mommy and baby," she said. She sounded so tired an ready for a nap. "Mommy and baby."

While my world grew smaller and focused on two children, the one outside the bubble was drawing in. Daniel found a camera and was taking pictures of the scene. Hawkeye stood to one side, pleased that something good came out of this. I ignored them. My greatest treasures were my children and I sure as hell was going to enjoy it as much as I could.

A song stuck itself in my head as I closed my eyes to sleep. It was from memories so misty and long ago that I thought I forgot them. A voice sounded in my head. It was my own mother, singing me and Dean a lullaby when we were small. It was before the divorce and madness that followed in the wake of their selfishness. It most certainly was before the terror of my teenaged and Army years.

 _Sway, back and forth,  
Sweet dreams come to you,  
Keeping you company this night…_


	22. The Hands Dealt

_May 14, 1954  
Crabapple Cove, Maine_

 _I have asked Hawkeye to get this journal from my room downstairs (which, I must add, he has done with hesitation). To be honest, I have been too sick and tired to write since coming home from Bloomington and Mom's funeral. This pregnancy has run me down in many ways too. So much has happened since I've last written and I will eventually get to that. However, I am trying to wrap my head around a new development._

 _A dream has become reality. The 4077_ _th_ _reunion has begun! The first guests arrived in Crabapple Cove earlier this morning. Trapper and his wife and daughters drove up from Boston and Margaret is due to fly in tonight with her new friend. They both are staying with Eddie and his friends during their stay. While Trapper promised to stick around town for a week and come up again in June by himself, Margaret had time to be here for the full month._

 _I am so anxious. I haven't seen Trapper since he left Korea almost three years ago. We've exchanged letters since then and most of them have been so emotional that I cannot bear to read and write them sometimes. And the last time I saw Margaret, we were saying our goodbyes at the camp. She went to the 8063_ _rd_ _with Father Mulcahy and Charles and helped them to break up the camp there. We had a clear pathway straight to Kimpo and home and were not part of the disbandment of the other M*A*S*H bases._

 _But I still cannot get over Mom's death. I was so dismissive of her and checked in every now and then. I wanted to justify my revenge. Even in death, she has to mock me. My feelings for her dripped in something akin to grief and her tragic end in the hands of starvation was not where I'd thought she'd be in death._

 _Sure, I'll miss her. She taught me many things. While she didn't pay much attention to me and Dean when we were small, she reached into our youth and displayed invisibility, cowardice and even lying and cheating. Growing up with Clarence, she developed this further. As an ideal churchwoman, she reimagined herself as a strong wife and mother, religious and spiritual in every way and the ideal housewife. She was perfect._

 _I cannot sweep her actions under a rug. She allowed Clarence to assault me and blamed me for it. She didn't care that I was pregnant with his child and nearly bled to death on Henry Blake's front stoop. She called me a whore and worse for years. She even resented Shannon and didn't seem so sad to see her go. Clarence surely had a good time ripping apart my baby's furniture._

 _There's so much to think about, I cannot believe it! It upsets me to dwell on Mom and Clarence. I have to think positive thoughts._ _Right_ _. The reunion. There's something to keep my mind off of Mom!_

 _Right now, it's easier for me to remain upstairs in my bedroom until somebody shows up. I am quivering with anticipation! After all, I want to look my best and be rested. I don't want anybody to worry about me. Even after all of these hard years, especially when I had been urged by so many people to ask for help, I am still dressed on appearances. I want this to be a happier occasion. It's supposed to help all of us heal._

 _Hawkeye is calling out that somebody is at the door. I hear it opening. Trapper must be here!_

~00~

The moment was here. Trapper had arrived. I wanted to wait a few minutes before coming down myself. Hawkeye and Trapper were together for the first time in almost three years. This was a big moment. Besides one stab in the back and a few awkward letters, the two had not communicated face-to-face since Hawkeye left for Tokyo all those years ago.

The last time they saw each other, it was in the Swamp. Henry was dead then. And Dean…he was there, alive and well, and quite annoyed with Hawkeye. We were getting drunk and did not care.

Those times were gone now. This was a new era, a new afterglow. What will happen next will be contingent on us. Those who were dead depended upon us moving forward.

I wanted to make sure Hawkeye was alone at the initial meeting and keep away until the right moment. While the beginning of the hopeful reconciliation commenced, I tried entertaining myself with a nameless novel from my nightstand. The words kept dancing on the page, enough that I had to put it down, and it annoyed me. Hawkeye and Trapper, together at last? I had to be the fly on the wall. I could not shake off the feeling that I had to be there for this momentous event. I was so anxious that I had to try to listen to them.

I strained my ears. There wasn't much action now and it disappointed the spy in me. Trapper was standing in the doorway with Louise and the girls, Kathy and Becky, and the group was quiet. Daniel was nearby, closing the door and welcoming them in. Hawkeye was saying something about being in Crabapple Cove and how happy he was to see Trapper. When Trapper asked about me and Shannon, Hawkeye said he'll go get us.

He raced upstairs and arrived breathless at the door. "You ready?" he asked.

Painfully, I swung my legs over the bed. The novel was abandoned. "I'm ready as I'll ever be." I stretched carefully. "How are they?"

"Louise is as sour as the day I first saw her pictures," Hawkeye recounted excitedly. He didn't seem to care that Trapper's wife was unhappy. "Becky and Kathy are pretty tall. And grown up. And –"

"Down, boy," I ordered. When I saw Shannon behind Hawkeye, I smiled. "Hi, sweetie."

"Tuncle?" Shannon asked. It was a nonsense word that I didn't understand.

Hawkeye turned around and picked her up. "What was that?"

"Tuncle is here!" Shannon exclaimed. She waved her arms frantically. "Tuncle, Tuncle, Tuncle!"

Hawkeye glanced at me in confusion. I shrugged my shoulders. _That_ was unusual. Our daughter spoke clearly most of the time and didn't babble like a baby anymore. When I thought about it though, I guessed that she called Trapper this…and she remembered him, Louise and the girls better than we realized.

Scared, I stood up shakily and leaned heavily against Hawkeye. Together, we went downstairs. Upon our descent, I saw that Trapper and Louise were still standing in the entranceway, the girls bored beside them. Daniel was talking with them about their road trip and their alternative arrangements and what Eddie had in store for them and it wasn't all about the booze. When Daniel noted our presence, he found an ending to his talk and allowed us the floor. He faded into the kitchen, saying that he was going to make some lunch.

"Jeanie! Shannon!" Trapper greeted when he saw us. He took Shannon from Hawkeye's arms and pelted her with kisses. "How are you, Princess?"

"Tuncle is here!" Shannon replied, giggling. "Fun!"

I was still holding onto Hawkeye in an anxious manner as Trapper finished his parental ministrations to my daughter. Next, Louise took her and held her so tightly that I thought Shannon was going to explode from the top. Becky and Kathy were very ecstatic too, clamoring for attention and demanding that they play with Shannon as their parents passed her back and forth with obvious glee. This gave me a chance to study the family unit.

It was not a happy one. Trapper and Louise had been through so much already, between their marriage and the war that divided them. While they shared their common grief, they still could not get past the differences that damnable Korea and the womanizing killed inside them. Their body language, while relaxed, was relieved to see their former ward, but not being with each other. Louise _still_ suspected something off and Trapper was hurt by one too many arguments. They also could not meet each other's eyes while they talked with their daughters or exchanged Shannon above the girls' heads.

Louise herself appeared older than her age (she was maybe a few years older than I am). She was a little taller than I am, with straight jet-black hair (like what Hawkeye used to have when we began dating) and piercing hazel eyes. Her hair, while tangled with the same white, held more irrational hysteria than seasoned wisdom. She was so scared of her shadow that the slightest rock to the boat would put her in a coma of madness. Anything that mentioned Korea, other women, getting drunk and death was going to put her six feet under. Shannon seemed to be the exception. Louise was full of bliss holding her.

Trapper was worse. While his smile displayed a general joy in seeing Shannon, it also showed the deep wrinkles from months of worrying, working and drinking. His curly blonde hair lightened to almost completely white. His hands shook, but I could not tell from what because it could have been so many things (and he told me several of his problems in his letters). He was bowed from his past too – war, postwar and everything in between. Trapper was just as old as we are, elderly before our time, and he didn't even share the same prison sentence we did.

Kathy was the oldest of the two girls. She was almost a teen-ager now, maybe twelve or thirteen, with long blonde hair and the same eyes of her mother. Becky, on the other hand, was a few years younger. She was almost a twin to her sister in appearances except in height and size. While Kathy was short and petite, Becky stood taller and was slightly stocky. But both were _so_ happy-go-lucky. Their parents' distress did nothing to tamper their attitudes. They carried on like nothing happened and the war was just someplace where Trapper went to for a vacation.

Eventually, the two parents gave Shannon up. They released her into the living room so she could play. Kathy and Becky immediately followed, demanding that they were going outside to play with Shannon. When we four stipulated that they stay away from the ocean, they opted to remain in what was our yard. While small, it would have kept the trio pretty busy.

This left us four to socialize. Once the children disappeared, it was like we all had nothing left to buffer the clumsy way we all felt about each other. When Daniel came back with sandwiches and tea on a tray, he suggested we all sit outside with the girls too. He was going to Portland to pick up Margaret and her friend.

Grabbing the Packard keys, he added, "It's a beautiful day. Tomorrow, we might have lobster for dinner if the catches are good."

Louise picked up the tray with the goodies from my father-in-law and followed Daniel's directions to the back porch, stating that she wanted to be with the children alone for a few minutes. Trapper, Hawkeye and I lingered when the two departed. I was growing tired and feeling like the walls were closing in. I moved to the rocking chair to abate the pain, but Hawkeye stopped me. He held me closer.

"Hawkeye –" I began. I clenched my stomach with my other hand.

"Let her sit, Hawkeye," Trapper said gravely. "She can hear this too."

That was when Hawkeye led me to my seat. As I settled in and began rocking, Hawkeye and Trapper found themselves on the couch together. They were a few cushions apart, still stubborn in their beliefs of the past, and yet they both yearned for forgiveness from the other. Neither of them was willing to budge. It was easy to see it in their eyes.

"Trap, I don't know what there is to say," Hawkeye began slowly. "What do you want me to say? That I forgive you? That I'm sorry too?"

"I can't bear goodbyes," Trapper said. "You can ask Jeanie. I left without saying much to her too."

"I can't remember much of that night," I admitted. The drunken memories of the Officers' Club whirled in mind unbidden. I was close to tears trying to remember several glasses of gin and sad music. "I don't want to anyway."

"But it wasn't goodbye forever," Hawkeye pointed out. "It was 'See you later'. Or 'Until this damned war is over'. You could have left me a lousy note."

Trapper was quiet. It was a circle they were going in. I know that the letters were only the beginning. This was a conversation the two had been waiting to have for a couple of years now. But now they were together, it was the same excuses. Somebody had to be the leader and each was not giving. Nothing had changed between them.

Trapper broke the silence. "You know, I didn't like being your second fiddle."

"You weren't," Hawkeye choked out. "You were my friend. My _best_ friend. We went through hell together. You made that crummy place more bearable. We made memories that I can't forget."

"It's pretty childish now, isn't it? Who gives a damn about fucking around with the nurses and camping out? God, I missed my family so much, Hawk. You don't know what that's like."

"No, I don't think it was childish. It was a way for us to cope, Trapper. And I think you forgot that. You forgot who the hell you were the moment somebody told you that you were going home."

"Like you were any better! I held onto your daughter until somebody said you were her father. You left Jeanie in a hole until you jumped in with her. _You_ forgot who the hell you should have been."

Hawkeye stood up, outraged about the accusations (even though they had a ring of truth to them and it still hurt me a little). He began to rant to Trapper about sanity, love and heartbreak and how he could not do anything about Shannon. There was something in there about minding his own business and thinking others understand pain when they never experienced it themselves.

This prompted Trapper to be a child too, screaming about responsibility, drinking and standing up and being a man. Before I knew it, the two were yelling louder at each other at the same time, accusing the other of one thing or another. Again, they had to compete and see who can come up with the worst insult. It was a vicious circle!

When Hawkeye squared in on the amount of time we spent in Korea versus Trapper and then Trapper telling Hawkeye to get his head out of his ass, I had enough. Pain or not, I was walking out to join Louise and the children. I managed to bypass the pair and sneak outside. While the sun was strong, I managed to hide amongst the shade. Louise was sitting on the swinging bench anyway. The tray was half full of our lunch.

"Are they _done_ yet?" Louise asked me snappishly. She sounded impatient and exasperated too.

I was startled. "I don't think so. Why?"

"Oh, I _knew_ this would happen," she grumped. " _He_ warned me."

"What?" I was startled.

" _He's_ been complaining about your husband for ages," Louise said rudely. "John is resentful and holding a grudge. And it is _your_ fault."

I almost forgot about Trapper's real name and kept my confusion to myself. I said nothing though. I didn't want to start another disagreement. It was enough that Trapper and Hawkeye were still screaming at each other in the living room. Worse, now _I_ had to deal with the instigation from Trapper's wife? I wasn't going to take it.

Instead, I went another route. "He could have chosen to stay home," I mentioned briefly. I took my portion of lunch and munched quietly. In-between bites, I continued. " _Trapper_ chose to remain in the past and drink it away. Whatever he holds in his heart, we cannot give or take from him. He has to learn to heal from it or let it consume him. It is up to him. You can help him or leave him."

 _That_ ended the conversation. I was glad.

~00~

It actually took Margaret and her new friend longer than expected to get to Crabapple Cove, with flight delays and a storm that held them over in Texas. It was close to midnight before Daniel pulled the car into the driveway with two guests. By then, he must have decided that they were staying with us for the night. From the bedroom, I could hear Margaret's awed voice from behind the Packard. An unfamiliar one was perhaps her friend, Keith O'Brien.

Hawkeye was already asleep beside me and did not wake up to the noise. He was so tired from yelling at Trapper and dealing with the aftermath that exhaustion took hold and did not poke at him him until he hit his head on the pillow. I mean, it was a pretty nasty fight. The two had to separate after the children wandered in and agreed to pick up the strong disagreement some other time.

Louise remained as tart as before. She just sighed and said nothing except to ask me to use the telephone. Loudly and obnoxiously, she called for a taxi to take her to Eddie's. She then corralled Kathy and Becky, keeping the girls on the front porch until their ride arrived.

Waving away the events from earlier, I tried waking Hawkeye up, thinking that my father-in-law might need assistance moving Margaret's things into a guest room. Nothing woke Hawkeye up. Even mentioning sexual favors didn't get his attention. I was on my own.

Margaret's voice greeted me as I dragged myself out of bed. Despite the chill, I walked downstairs without my kimono and saw her astonished face, as if my letters warning her didn't prepare her in time for the meeting. It quickly changed to delight. She held out her arms to me and I rushed into them, crying.

"Oh, Margaret!" I sobbed. "I am so glad to see you!"

Her tears accompanied mine. "Jeanie, we're ok," she said softly. "We're home."

We held onto each other for a few minutes. Someone gently pulled her from me and we separated. This was when she introduced me to her friend, Keith O'Brien.

"Boyfriend," he corrected. "It's very nice to meet you, Jeanie. I've heard a lot of things about you."

"And all of it rotten, I'm sure," I replied. This was when my spy's instincts took hold.

It wasn't because old habits didn't want to die. I had an intruder (so to say) in my home and I had to make sure we were safe. And I'm sure we were. Keith didn't seem so much as a threat like Frank and Donald were. He did wear the heavy mantle of being a doctor in a war zone though, with wide, sagging shoulders and tired brown eyes. His unmilitary and unshaven head told me everything. He was just as undisciplined as the rest of us and he was going to keep Margaret on her toes.

 _She chose someone like us!_

"I'd say we can talk over drinks, but not right now," Keith said, taking my hand and kissing it in a friendly manner.

"My husband will consider it a joy," I reassured him. "I'm sure we'll bond over something else. Maybe dirty socks? Worn underwear? Cockroach races?"

" _Cockroach races_?" Daniel asked behind me.

I was _so_ embarrassed. I thought he wasn't in the room. "We'll talk about it later." I waved the thought away. "Why don't we settle for the night?"

Margaret agreed. She was so tired from flying across the country. Keith picked up their bags and Daniel led them to their separate bedrooms on the second floor. I didn't follow. I settled in the rocking chair. When I began swaying, my mind calmed. Today was only the beginning. Tomorrow will bring more people. Even more will arrive in a matter of weeks.

And in-between this madness, Hawkeye and I will celebrate our first anniversary and our new baby will be born.

It was so overwhelming to still think about. I sighed and closed my eyes. I wasn't one for sleep this night. It was too exciting of a day. I waited patiently until Daniel found a seat on the couch.

"It wasn't a good day, was it?" he asked me bluntly.

I opened my eyes and nodded. "It went downhill pretty fast."

"What happened when I was gone?"

"Hawkeye and Trapper got into an argument and it was nasty."

"Jesus Christ," Daniel swore quietly. "What stopped them?"

"Children," I replied calmly. "They decided they had enough sun and wanted dolls."

"Lucky for us, they were around. Just don't tell me Hawkeye was a jackass."

"Oh, he was. I don't think he understand that his selfishness hurt a lot of people. Trapper was defensive about it. I cannot blame him."

"Don't you ever resent him denying Shannon? It must have been tough."

I had to stop and think about the random question. Yes, it was hurtful. Alone, I had to handle Trapper in more ways than being a buffer. I had to read every letter alone, anxious to the core that he was going to break and Shannon will be in Louise's hands. Save for a few occasions, every picture had to be hidden from plain sight, like Shannon did not exist. She was a ghost that Hawkeye could not face without remembering his own pain. He had to witness her horrific beginning with Henry and allow his heart to be trampled upon when she was ripped from our arms.

Was I resentful of him? No. I was upset. Instead of comforting me in my grief, he handed me a drink and told me to forget even more. I was no better. I played right into his hands and took my own demons for a ride. The birth of another demon that grew wild with the others had to be dealt with. I had to forget that pain too.

Was I resentful of _myself_? Yes. I could not deny that.

My reply was careful. "In war, different rules are played. Each situation had to be handled in a such a way that we cannot see what is black and what is white. What might seem so selfish might also have an emotional plea behind it. I cannot blame Hawkeye and Trapper for anything."

"What do you mean, the rules are different?" Daniel was confused.

"War has a funny way of making life so hard to play," I continued. But the words of my poem from so long ago spilled out. "It's a card game, with a new dealer every round. Dealer calls the shots and we play along. We all know that we're going to lose, one way or another. We just don't know when or how."


	23. It's the Same Story the Crow Told Me

_It's the same story the crow told me.  
It's the only one he knows.  
Like the morning sun you come,  
And like the wind you go._

 _Ain't no time to hate,  
Barely time to wait.  
Wo, oh, what I want to know,  
Where does the time go?_

 _I live in a silver mine,  
And I call it Beggar's Tomb.  
I got me a violin and  
I beg you call the tune._

 _Anybody's choice,  
I can hear your voice.  
Wo, oh, what I want to know,  
How does the song go?_

The next morning was much better and brought a lot of promise. While Trapper, Louise and the girls remained with Eddie without indicating any future plans, Hawkeye and I not only had Margaret and Keith, but more of the usual gang coming in droves or calling us. Radar and his mother came unannounced when we were sitting down for breakfast and apologized so much that Daniel decided to smooth things over by serving them food. Zale managed to sneak in and run off to the nearest motel when he heard Klinger was coming, all the while promising to bring his fists. Mrs. Potter called at nine o'clock, asking if noontime was best for _their_ arrival. BJ even reached out from Minnesota, saying that they will be in tonight!

Even Klinger managed to catch us by telephone! He and Soon-Lee had managed to cut down the red tape and reach the US and were on their way, hailing from Virginia. After giving a time frame of their arrival (tomorrow afternoon), he admitted to Hawkeye that his family disowned him for marrying somebody who was Korean and that he was no longer in Toledo. However, he and his wife were happily living with the Potters (with Father Mulcahy nearby) and, while they did not come together, will be staying with them upon their arrival in Crabapple Cove.

Hawkeye was shocked, to say the least. He stuttered some words, most of them we didn't understand from the dining room, and managed to say to Klinger that we'll see him soon. Daniel was about to check on him when Love reentered the dining room and sat down. That was when he announced the news about Klinger.

"What an irony!" Margaret commented as she buttered her toast. "Klinger did everything he could to leave the Army to go home and now, he can't."

"I see it as a tragedy," I added, "but you are right. All of that effort went to nothing."

Hawkeye said something about dressing up to escape _from_ Toledo. Keith, who had only heard stories about Klinger (especially from his unit), added fuel to the fire by joking, minding Shannon nearby and trying to hold back his crude humor. Radar snickered something about the type of dress and day while Mrs. O'Reilly told him to behave himself at the breakfast table.

Around and around the comments went. Those who did not serve in our purgatory sat quietly, unable to stop the banter. It was most evident in my father-in-law. Daniel sat back and listened to us banter about Klinger. He didn't understand what we were talking about, only understanding that this was the orderly who used to dress in dresses, and nodded here and there.

That was when the phone rang _again_. Daniel excused himself from the table and answered it. We couldn't hear who it was and thought it was somebody else who was coming for the reunion. Margaret and I debated who it was this time, placing bets on Father Mulcahy (who was supposed to be behind the Potters), Charles (with his chauffeur driving him to the door) or even Kellye (with a group of the girls following in her wake). All of our hopes were that Frank did not answer the call to come. Margaret dreaded this most of all.

By the way the conversation was held, it seemed to be that another soul from the 4077th was not on the line. The mystery remained though and or gossip had to cease, to better eavesdrop. It was pretty damned difficult. My father-in-law mumbled a few words and then called me over.

I was surprised. Margaret offered me her arm as I rose. I declined, deciding to do this on my own. I waddled to the living room and took the proffered item from Daniel's hands. When I did, memories of another time and place overwhelmed me. It was like the night of Dean's death all over again, where bad news was bound to hang over my head. My mother had found out about Dean and called me, while it was still in the middle of the night in Korea…

" _You lying, cheating whore! You've killed your brother!"_

I shook the memory away. Taking a deep breath, I said nonchalantly, "Jeanie here."

"It's Mrs. Pettigrew, Jeanie," the reply came. "I was wondering if you were up to taking a small walk with me today. We won't venture far."

I looked back to the dining room table. While Daniel returned to his place and was eating soundlessly, the others peered at me with curiosity. Even my daughter glanced at me with eager eyes. All of them, excluding Daniel and Shannon (and most likely Radar), expected somebody from the 4077th to be on the line, asking if such-and-such a time will be perfect. Nobody was expecting me to receive an invite from the neighbor for a walk.

I didn't realize how quiet the line was until Mrs. Pettigrew asked if I was still there. Her tone was a little snappish and impatient, like our relationship was before the strange occurrences over the past few months. I reassured her that I was listening, but thinking about her offer. Before she could bark another retort, I quickly accepted her suggestion.

"Bring your daughter," Mrs. Pettigrew added. "I am sure she'd love to be away from your company."

"I will most certainly have Shannon with me," I replied slowly and with almost fake enthusiasm. "She'll love it."

When we closed the conversation with a promise to see each other in a few minutes, I hung up. I felt dejected though. Shannon never warmed Mrs. Pettigrew and tolerated her here when I was in bed (as I was informed by Hawkeye). Going on a walk with the neighbor was going to be a chore. Shannon was already enjoying the people she was with now. Margaret was tickling her and the blueberry pancakes Shannon had threatened to go all over the place as her hands kept hitting the plate. Hawkeye joined in and got our daughter screeching louder.

The others were shocked except the former company clerk. Oh, Radar was no better! He snuck behind Shannon and picked her up, swinging her left and right while Hawkeye and Margaret followed, picking here and there for a tickle.

It was a disaster. I sighed, inching closer to the action. As soon as Radar saw me, he put my little girl down, which began a chain reaction. Indeed, all hilarity ceased when I came back. Radar seemed the guiltiest of all. His face flushed red with embarrassment, even though Hawkeye hadn't said anything to contradict the fun.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," he said automatically.

"It's Jeanie now, Radar," I corrected him gently. "I'm not an officer anymore."

"What's going on?" Margaret inquired before Radar and his mother could utter more apologies. She appeared serious.

"Nothing," I answered as normally as possible. "Our neighbor just wanted to know if I was up for a walk. She asked for Shannon too."

Hawkeye was indignant. "You are not well enough to –"

Daniel got up quickly and gently put a hand on Hawkeye's shoulder. "Jeanie can take care of herself," he interrupted. "There are plenty of places she can rest. Shannon isn't a problem either."

Hawkeye had to let this go, even though his defenses were up. He wasn't too pleased with Mrs. Pettigrew and thought the annoyance will upset me. I was also a month away from our baby being born. Anything and everything can happen between now and then.

His wordless plea begged me to be careful. He was so solicitous about my condition that I swore his eyes said he was coming along too. But Margaret and Keith got there before I could counter this dramatic encore. Margaret mentioned going into town and wanted to settle her other arrangements.

"You've told me so much about Crabapple Cove," she mentioned to Hawkeye. "Why don't you show us around? I'm sure Radar and his mother will love to come along too."

"A novel idea," Daniel added. He winked at me as he let Hawkeye go. "I'll stay here."

"I'll take Shannon," I only said, grabbing my daughter and waving goodbye.

The movement was too sudden and it hurt. I ignored it, smiling as I grabbed our coats and headed outside as the others made their plans. The front porch was illuminated with sunshine, flowers, sand and a light breeze. Beyond that, it was a busy sight for a spring day. Children were running and playing. Teen-agers were walking with their sweethearts. Married couples – old and young, with and without young children – walked about carefully, eying the youth with wary eyes or annoyed glances.

Mrs. Pettigrew was already waiting for me at the front of our driveway. She tapped her cane impatiently. She blossomed into smiles as soon as she saw us though. While Shannon was not impressed and tried a few times to get away, I held firm and walked forward. I wasn't allowing Hawkeye's prejudices to color her opinion anymore.

"Mrs. Pierce," she greeted me warmly.

"Mrs. Pettigrew," I replied. My hand pointed in the direction of her house. "Shall we?"

She set the pace and it was a grueling one too. Mrs. Pettigrew's property line was about two acres away from ours and walking that brief distance had me short of breath. She noted this and stopped by a tree between the two yards. I leaned against it and held onto one side until I was able to continue. We soon reached her home, but did not enter.

Instead, Mrs. Pettigrew indicated that we were using a walkway on the left. I nodded and followed her. This time, Shannon did not struggle. She was actually intrigued. Even though she had spent so much time with this woman before I came home, this seemed to be an area of interest and one she had not seen before.

And I couldn't blame Shannon in the slightest! It was an engaging pathway. While the left was bordered with bushes budding with small white flowers until the end, where sand met grass, on the right was a sort of garden. While flowers of all sorts began to bloom in the cool May weather, what caught our attention were the roses that had yet to bloom. Mrs. Pettigrew had trellises against her house, which allowed several thorny vines to climb aided.

I was tired again. This time, I was becoming dizzy with the shortness of breath. When there were black spots before my eyes and I was struggling to keep upright, Mrs. Pettigrew took the side Shannon was not on and guided me to a bench by the back corner of her home. She seated herself on the other side and Shannon sat between us.

"What happened to you?" she asked me softly, pointing to my chest.

"I – I – I took some shrapnel," I told her. I caught my breath. "I was trapped in a firefight. Then, they stopped. Bombs were being dropped."

I fought tears. It was a tough time then. Dean had just died. My parents already placed the blame on my shoulders, although BJ did the best he could and I could not find fault with his work. Hawkeye was facing the reality of fatherhood. He screamed about how unfair it was at me and could not see past his selfishness. And then, there was Colonel Flagg, who called the meeting. He used all of my remaining CIA contacts to bring about this farce conference, only to see all of them except me dead.

Shannon shook my hand. "Mommy, what's firefight?"

"A person who shoots guns at another person," Mrs. Pettigrew quickly said for me.

The innocent question and the accompanying answer frightened me. I didn't expect my daughter to pick up on words that made Korea so familiar. When I closed my eyes, remembering her unconventional birth, all I could see was that pockmarked landscape and how days were measured by card games, nights at Rosie's, OR sessions and laundry days. When I opened my eyes, I took a deep breath and smiled at her.

"It's when people who do not like each other try to hurt the other," I continued.

"That's not nice," Shannon told me. Her childlike mind did not grasp the concept fully and I was grateful. "I don't want a boy or girl hurting me."

"No, it's not," Mrs. Pettigrew agreed, "but people do it to each other all the time."

I recalled what Hawkeye said all those years ago and tried making it as light a topic as possible. "As Daddy has said, they should take a specimen bottle and throw it at twenty paces."

That was when my chest began pounding me. I grinned through the pain and looked down at Shannon. I took her small hand and squeezed it gently. It wasn't just for her. I needed the reassurance more than she did.

"That's still not nice," Shannon reminded me, not noticing my agony thankfully. She still did not understand it, from the look on her face.

"No, but Mommy was hurt a lot because people who did not know her wanted to make sure she did not hit them back," Mrs. Pettigrew explained. "She is home now and is getting better. Am I right?"

I nodded and kept up the façade until Mrs. Pettigrew saw Larry and his shy girlfriend. She called them over and asked that they take Shannon for a few minutes. Larry wanted to bolt and take a walk into town, but his girlfriend saw it differently. She absolutely cooed over Shannon, lifting her from her seat and telling her how adorable she is.

"We can stay here for a bit," she said excitedly to Larry. "Can't we?"

"Don't be taking that girl off of the property!" Mrs. Pettigrew ordered sharply when ideas shone in the teen-ager's eyes. "Mrs. Pierce doesn't want her daughter playing dolls at another house. And keep her away from the water! We don't want the girl to catch a cold."

Promises were made to behave and the duo left with Shannon. We could see them at the end of the pathway. Shannon swung between the pair, giggling as they took her higher and higher. Then, they headed towards the beach. However, Larry did not allow Shannon to get anywhere near the water, as ordered. At this time of year, the water wasn't just cold. The waves were more vicious and I feared that more than cold water getting in her shoes and clothes.

When they were out of sight, I felt free to be myself and not have my daughter ask a million questions. I let the mask fall and coughed. Mrs. Pettigrew patted my back and eventually got my arms raised, to let the airways clear up. When it finally came down to wheezing, I was relieved.

I wasn't going to give up on this adventure though. I knew that it was too late to turn back now. It was going to be a hassle going back to bed. Besides, Mrs. Pettigrew wasn't going to let me leave her sight just yet.

"There, there," Mrs. Pettigrew soothed. She allowed me to lean against her shoulder. "I know, it's pretty damned difficult."

"It'll be much easier without being in Korea," I uttered. "It's not a war zone."

"How true, but having two children does not make it any easier."

"Make _what_ easier?"

"Coping with the war. Having a husband like you. Taking the weight from your father-in-law."

"You're a war nurse. You had a husband and children. You tell me how to work the system to make it calmer."

"There's no way." Mrs. Pettigrew threw no punches. Her voice did not betray any lie. "You have to make your own pathway. I am not Jeanie Morrison Pierce. I am Agnes O'Neill Pettigrew. I went through a different time and an equally destructive war. I also learned from no one."

"Well, that's the best advice I've heard since coming home." I laughed bitterly, but this turned into another coughing fit. When I finished, I gulped air like a drowning woman. "I don't know what to do. I really don't. I have to cling onto hope. It's all I have now."

My voice was like a child's, whining for help. I also felt like a fool. There I was, sitting heavily against this elderly woman who taunted and tortured me for months, and she had done me a kindness in caring for me when nobody else really could. I didn't understand why she reached out when I had pushed her off to one side after anger claimed me. I also could not see why she gave me the most wisdom I had since departing Korea. I hardly knew her!

Like a mother missing her child, her hands ran through my hair. I originally had my brunette head pinned back in a brushed-under bob, but her gnarled fingers broke through the feeble metal pieces. She picked through them though, pocketing them like a parent taking away a toy from her petulant child.

I protested, "You don't need to do this."

"You don't have anybody else," she pointed out. "Your mother is dead. And you have a surrogate mother, yes?"

I nodded, feeling no need to lie this time. I never told anyone about Lorraine except for Hawkeye and he kept this to himself. My father-in-law doesn't even know much of my life in Bloomington. He could not have told Mrs. Pettigrew anything either.

"I am a cruel old woman," Mrs. Pettigrew continued. "I am not asking to be your mother. I am only asking you listen to me. Mind me. Humor me. Do what you will. But allow me to be a friend. I never had anybody to guide me. Tragedy shaped me and it will do the same with you unless you change it. You have a lot of fear."

I glared at Mrs. Pettigrew like she was insane. "I have my family. What do I need to be afraid of?"

"Yourself, for all the harm you'll cause in the wake of your self-pity and misery," she answered. "You'll fear for your family too, from the insecurities you faced. Then, there is the future. You want to believe that there is something good when you saw so much bad. But it's something you need to find for _yourself_. You take it one day at a time. And trust me, there will always be days when you don't think you are home. Some days, I still imagine myself in France."

"What do you do then? When you think you're in France?"

"That was when I get nasty. I play tricks. I make false accusations. I have to put up a wall in order to keep the world away from mine. My husband understood me and we had each other when the going was tough. He was a doctor. That was how we met, all the way in France. But that was also his downfall too."

I drew in my breath. "Did he bring you here?"

"He did," Mrs. Pettigrew confirmed. "I didn't want to. I wished to go to my own home. I was from California. But he was persuasive, that husband of mine. He told me it'll be the tonic we both needed." She took a deep breath. "We began our family here and my two children grew up here. Both of them and their spouses died here too. Larry is all that I have left."

The silence after the revolution was deafening. It also left me shaking. I didn't know what to tell her. All of Mrs. Pettigrew's words grew into a tree that was deeply rooted in her own sadness. As a nurse, she too experienced the same side of war I did. While in another world, her France was my Korea and we will forever be locked in their grasps. There was no escaping war.

"Come now," Mrs. Pettigrew finally said. She sat me up. "That's enough rest. Let's go to the shore and sit with the children."

I agreed with her. I stood up slowly and followed Mrs. Pettigrew to the end of her garden and to the yard. I needed to rest for a minute, so we stopped one more time and sat in some chairs. Then, after about ten minutes, we ambled to the beach. Already, Larry and his girlfriend had Shannon tired out. They sat on some blankets and watched the water crash onto the sand.

We joined them quietly. I grabbed Shannon from Larry and allowed the hypnotic spell to weave its magic on us. Before long, my daughter was asleep in my arms. It wasn't even lunchtime yet and her day was already filled with great wonder and good people.

I was much too weary to go back yet. However, the ocean was so soothing to me and lulling me into a sense of security I began to see as the hope I craved. While the waves calmed down some, they still called out a song that lingered in my ears.

Shannon was safe. I wrapped her in a nearby spare blanket and laid her to my right. I stood up again and took off my shoes. My legs shook with the effort. But I had to walk closer to the water.

As soon as Mrs. Pettigrew noted this, she grew alarmed. "Mrs. Pierce, what are you going?"

"Mrs. Pierce?" Larry questioned too.

I ignored them all, even Mrs. Pettigrew's orders to me and the teen-agers. Once I started, I could not stop. My feet took me nearer and nearer to the grey sea. I was not interested in swimming. I wanted nothing more than for it to wash me clean.

My feet screamed in pure agony from feeling the icy grip. But while the rest of my body trembled, my spirit soared. This was truly my only reconciliation. Mrs. Pettigrew was right. There was no right way, but I had to learn to pave my own life now that war made me different.

" _Jeanie_!" A distant voice called out to me. "What the hell are you doing? Get out of the water!"

I looked up to the source and grinned. It was Hawkeye. I saw two figures behind him. All three of them were running towards me. Mrs. Pettigrew was also looming closer. Although the closest, she did not reach me first. Hawkeye and his group did.

I didn't see the attraction. I was laughing like a child as the chill crept up from my feet to the hem of my dress. What compounded my merriment was seeing Hawkeye with Colonel Potter and Sidney. While the pair behind Hawkeye did not express the same dismay my husband did, they still appeared a tad bit worried. Colonel Potter was cautioning Hawkeye, but Sidney didn't see a threat. Once he saw my smile, he relaxed a little.

Finding my breath, I exclaimed nonsensically, "The water is so cold! Did you know that?" I splashed with my toes.

Hawkeye didn't understand and looked at me like I was heading to a rubber room. He pulled me out and declared that the excursion was over and that he was taking me inside. After swearing under his breath, he lectured me over how I could have caught a serious illness or worse, collapsed or gone into a premature labor.

His two companions did not say much. While Sidney took Shannon from Larry and interjected here and there about being here with us and how nice it was, our former CO had to remind Hawkeye to take it easy. Hawkeye didn't notice he was pulling my arms hard enough that white marks were imprinted there.

Honestly, I did not care. While I tired from the trek back to the house, I was feeling a glow inside. It was that spark Daniel always talked about. He said I was strong and never realized how much of it I had. Well…I guess seeing a light was one way of seeing it. The coming month will show me more and I hoped that Hawkeye felt the same way.

 _When the rain washes you clean, you'll know…_

* * *

 **Hey, everyone! Many apologies for the long chapter. Just a quick note. Lyrics are from the Grateful Dead's "Uncle John's Band" and the last line is from Fleetwood Mac's "Dreams".**


	24. Finding Links to Each Other

_May 20, 1954  
Crabapple Cove, Maine_

 _It is nighttime now and the celebrations are still underway. I cannot describe the days we've had this past week. Is it possible to actually feel physically miserable, but spiritually happy? Is it possible have the glum be lifted from your shoulders? To have people just like you celebrate continuing life? Or to have your heart broken into a million pieces and have others feel the same?_

 _Perhaps it is. I don't know. What I do know is that my heart has never been so close to bursting before, form grief or joy. Even though I have been stuck in this bedroom most of the time, I have glimpses of hope and sunshine through the darkness that plagues all of us. And I don't even need to walk outside. So many people have milled in and out of this room that my head is spinning._

 _The girls especially have been attentive, all thanks to Margaret. They keep coming upstairs, despite Hawkeye telling them not to, and chatting with me or playing a game. They bring Shannon too, cooing over her and playing with her unless Peg is directing her day or Hawkeye manages to keep our daughter from their clutches. It is difficult for both of us to take Shannon, to be honest, hence the nurses taking her under their wings. Margaret leads a charge that cannot be challenged often._

 _And who can blame the little girl who loves her attention? The other girls take turns brushing Shannon's black hair and plaiting it, sneaking nail polish on her tiny fingers and dressing her in clothes they bought at the local stores or taking her shopping for clothes for the new baby. Sometimes, they parade her outside, despite our parental wishes, and spoil her rotten. Even Hawkeye, the man with the spotlight on his head, is pulling his hair out in frustration!_

 _I have to say, Shannon basks in all of this attention. She's like Hawkeye that way and plays it up so that the ante is high. Being petted is almost too much for her, to the point where she pouts at the end of the day and has to beg Grandpa to stay up a little bit longer or take a ride with Auntie Margaret (Margaret's idea as a name, not ours). To be honest, it's insufferable at times and quite annoying. It makes me dread the end of this reunion in some ways._

 _It's so tough to keep so many women away from me and Shannon, to be honest. When I want some quiet, maybe read a book with Shannon in my bed napping, they're all marching in and demanding attention for something or another. I never understood it and possibly never will. But I smile through it all and try to enjoy it while I can. I don't have much of a choice, do I?_

 _Other times, it is quite enjoyable to be with people. I find nothing more relaxing than sitting outside in the spring sunshine. When night becomes dawn, I would sneak out of bed and sit on a blanket in the sand, to watch the sunrise, read a book or just to think. Some people join me, mostly those who are staying with us if Hawkeye isn't there first or Shannon wakes up and follows me. Sidney and his wife Adelaide (Addie) and their son Victor will join me. BJ, Peg and Erin sometimes show up. The Potters are staying with Mrs. Pettigrew (no joke, and even Klinger, Soon-Lee and Father Mulcahy are there), so if Mrs. Potter sees me out there, she'll be bringing her blanket._

 _Otherwise, during the day, there are so many activities. Volleyball has been a favorite pastime on the beach. There are walks into town. Some people have hiked in the woods at the edge of town. BJ has persuaded Hawkeye and I to join him and Peg at Eddie's when I was well enough to walk or Peg isn't throwing up from morning sickness. Yes, she is pregnant!_

 _There, we met with Trapper and Louise. And let me tell you how awkward that is! The elephant in the room is more than Korea this time. It's about goodbyes, children and even pranks. It's about the past and what it means to us. Trapper can say all he wants that it was childish to do what we did in Korea. He retains his inner child in more ways than one. But that is beside the point._

 _After their initial argument, Hawkeye and Trapper have been behaving themselves and using BJ as their moderator, if possible. They have danced around the topics of heated discussion and stick with what's going on during the day, family matters and the weather (nothing medical or disagreeable). However, with BJ in the middle, they seemed to gravitate towards their usual antics and sometimes have resolved some matters. Trapper even played a prank on Lucy, Eddie's unsuspecting waitress!_

 _Then, there were plans to get Margaret. BJ had the idea of digging a hole on the beach. Trapper opted to cover it up. Hawkeye was scheming on how to get her there. The three got along so well that Louise, Peg and I had to sigh and forgo interrupting them. While Peg and I expected this, Louise was worse than usual, but she took it in stride for once. She admitted that it was what she loved about Trapper the most – his elation, joy and childishness – and she missed it so much._

 _At night, it's a little different. That is usually when the party_ _really_ _gets started. The residents of Crabapple Cove are more than pleased that Hawkeye brought a month-long holiday to their doorsteps. Everybody has taken in one or another inhabitant of the 4077_ _th_ _, from hotels to residents. This entitled everybody, even the church crowds, to host dinners and other fetes and several go on at once, to the point where one can walk from one house to another and drink and eat to contentment. We have been invited to so many that my head spins. We've had to decline many invitations._

 _I've been too tired anyway and Hawkeye has been_ _so_ _overbearing, to the point where even Charles has told him to stop hovering over me. But even so, I have to say that, with so many doctors nearby, it's tough to avoid one and have them steer me back to bed anyway. Between my husband and father-in-law, I've had Colonel Potter, BJ, Charles and Trapper direct so much advice at me that I could not keep track of it all. Worse, Margaret has to put her two cents in!_

 _The greatest relief is actually Frank, believe it or not. This is why: he has not shown up! Hawkeye made sure he received the word about the reunion. Hell, he even had Frank on the phone weeks before people streamed into Crabapple Cove. Hawkeye said the conversation was brief, but the lipless wonder did not commit to anything._

" _Is Margaret going to be there?" he only asked Hawkeye after moments of silence._

" _Well, Frank, it depends on her little Hot Lips," Love replied. "It could be kissing someone. It might have gone back to Donald. Who knows?"_

" _I certainly hope not," Frank said stoutly. "What kind of Army mule is she if all she does is give away those wonderful lips?"_

 _That ended their conversation. Hawkeye told me he said some mumbled words to Frank about having to see Shannon and disconnected the call. But that was it. It was worse than the last telephone conversation, where we learned he made lieutenant colonel and a cozy position at the VA._

 _Only one thing popped our bubble a little. Did I mention that some people from the 43_ _rd_ _showed up? A few people who knew Dean and were at the 4077_ _th_ _came for a short visit yesterday, hearing we were celebrating life and postwar. They left this morning, giving us nothing except empty hearts and sore memories. The best they could do was drink it all away, just as many of us did, and return to what is left of their lives._

 _I am so angry about Dean's death –_ _still_ _! – that it burns inside of me. Dammit, Dean. I wish you could see us now. I would have drunk with you, even if I was pregnant. Dammit, dammit, dammit…_

 _But he would not have wanted me to keep grieving. I have to tell myself that. Shit, I can imagine my twin telling me to sit back and enjoy or to get my revenge when I could. I can see him with Amy. The two would have been married by now, for sure, and maybe walking arm-in-arm along the beaches or taking a chance in the woods. They could be socializing with the best of us and charming the rest of them._

 _The pain will always remain. Dean had been a part of me. We were twins, cut from the same cloth. Even though we had been apart for a great portion of our adult lives, he was always there somehow. There was a poem here, a letter of caution there, and even a bottle in a package. He was forever there to give me advice and protect me because his own guilt made him._

 _It's been over a year now. When will the memories cease? Or will we celebrate forever in this infernal afterglow? What kind of celebration can that be?_

 _I cannot complain. I really cannot. What are a few more weeks of company, our first anniversary and our second baby when all of it makes us happy and sad all at once? When we feel so complete and broken all at once?_

~00~

It was midafternoon. I was bored sitting on the back porch, watching the volleyball game and trying very hard not to nod off. Although Father Mulcahy was a great arbitrator, he always kept it clean and it not only bored me, but did not excite the exhaustion out of me. Otherwise, the nurses bounced back and forth and insisted that more join them. While I waved their suggestions away, I noted Addie, Klinger, Soon-Lee, BJ and Charles' sister Honoria join their ranks. It was an interesting mix, enough that I was tempted to get the camera and take some pictures.

As I was rocking and debating, Sidney joined me. While Victor was nearby with the other children (corralled by Charles, Radar, Colonel Potter and Peg), he was constant company. I never minded. He eyed his wife and young son and waved at them both.

"Any other projects you've been up to?" I asked, to break the silence. "You haven't talked much since coming."

"Oh, I've been busy," Sidney replied, still smiling to his family. "I'm here and there. The Army does not need me anymore. Not unless there's another war, of course."

A chill went down my spine. "There might be," I allowed. "I don't like to think about it."

"The work we concluded a couple of years ago is continuing," Sidney mentioned. "I am doing more research."

"Oh, the Shell Shock theory we looked into?" I was interested suddenly. I fought to keep my eyes opened.

"Well, yes. It's been a year since the war ended supposedly. Soldiers coming back can get over the hurdle. Some cannot. It makes me hope, especially for all of you. This can be another case in study."

"Some of us cannot get over that. We link to what we are familiar with."

"It's a learning process. I think you're getting the hang of it."

"What?" Now, I was more awake. "What are you talking about?"

"You seem so happy here," Sidney clarified. "You're at peace. Hawkeye too. But he's hesitant still. I can see it."

"He's been…on and off," I corrected. "He's scared to get close, but he wants to."

Sidney didn't seem so fazed. "It'll take some time." He paused. "It was one bus ride I don't think he'll forget anytime soon."

I couldn't reply, feeling the silence to be more comforting. But I could not go back to that horrible night. If I closed my eyes, I knew that I was going to have the image of the dead baby in my vision. If I remained focus on the here and now, I could put Korea behind me. But I couldn't help it. I shook with fear. The reality of the enemy was too close.

Luckily, the mood changed. Trapper charged through the kitchen and burst onto the back porch with a grin. He carried his old ukulele and was whistling a song while a lit cigar remained smoldering between his lips. Sidney was distracted by this and commented on his intentions.

"I think it's time for some change," Trapper mentioned. His head motioned to the good Padre. "Think it's time for a singalong?"

"Oh, keep it clean," I begged sarcastically. "We have too many children and they have big ears."

"Look who's talking!" Margaret exclaimed as she entered our conversation. "You drink like a fish and dance and sing like there's no tomorrow. You're infantile."

"Does it look like I engage in such activities now?" I challenged. I stuck my tongue out too. "Besides, it's not fair. I hardly drink these days."

"See what I mean? You always find a way to be a child."

"Somebody has to be. I mean, the boys aren't all together yet."

Being in the middle, Sidney saw his escape. He noted Addie waving to him and excused himself. I couldn't blame him. He often ignored our arguments while in Korea. Being in the States was no different.

Trapper took his place. He was troubled by something, the way his fingers now trembled against his instrument. Margaret drew closer too and sat on my other side. She took my hand and squeezed it, for courage. It was then that I knew that the two were going to tell me something difficult.

"Jeanie, Dean wrote me often," Trapper began uncertainly. "Some of them are poems. Did you know he wrote any?"

"I did." I nodded. "He usually threw them away. They were pretty good."

"Not all of them were lost," Margaret said.

"Margaret!" Trapper warned. When she cowered into her corner, he continued. "I have one I'd like to use for our singalong. Is that ok with you?"

All at once, I thought back to those days long ago. When we were younger, maybe teenagers and a little older, Dean was always dragging me to parties and socializing, more so than I ever did. While I sat in a corner and charmed one man after another and declined every dance, he impressed many girls with his poems and then made a scene throwing them into a fire after a drunken night or three. He was better liked with his talents and disregarded all the same.

Trapper meant well and using Margaret as a crutch was the perfect touch. I didn't see an issue with sharing Dean's words and smiled my encouragement. My brother would have welcomed it. The few times he met Calvin Spaulding, the two always conspired and Calvin always said his words had a ring of song to them. I would have loved to hear it.

He was elated. "Hey, everyone, who wants a break from playing?" Trapper yelled from his position. He got up and waved his instrument. "Let's sing a few songs!"

Margaret was surprised by my response. "Jeanie, are you ok?" she asked me. She too was uncertain of how I was feeling.

"Dean would have wanted it," I responded stoutly. "Go. Enjoy yourself, Margaret. I'll be ok."

The former head nurse shook her head and did not believe me. I could see it. However, her own heartache was obvious. Tears appeared in her eyes, but it was wiped away quickly. She released the tension from my hand and stood up. It looked like she was going to join Trapper and the dozens of others in the lazy afternoon concert. Instead, she turned to face me.

"I know how much Dean meant to you," Margaret said in a thick voice. "I never told anybody, but he was a brave man. He helped us more than you know. I loved him too. He was like an older brother to me and I miss him."

I maintained my clown-like grin, quivering with the effort. Margaret took this as damming my inner grief and decided to leave me be. I waved her away. I wanted her to have some fun and not ponder upon the sadness. I needed it too. Even seated where I was, it was easy to give myself away to the joy Trapper shared with others. I watched several people join him, learning Dean's words before singing along again.

Margaret's replacement that arrived almost immediately was more welcome. Charles had enough of the children (the physical ones anyway) and asked me if he was allowed to sit. I accepted his offer and scooted over to make room. My eyes did not leave Trapper though. My lips repeated the lines silently while I listened to Charles rambling about his wayward sister. While my mind was not on the conversation, I still managed to get the basic gist of it.

 _I'm tryin' to tell you somethin' 'bout my life.  
Maybe give me insight between black and white.  
And the best thing you've ever done for me  
Is to help me take my life less seriously.  
It's only life after all, yeah._

 _Well, darkness has a hunger that's insatiable  
And lightness has a call that's hard to hear.  
And I wrap my fear around me like a blanket.  
I sailed my ship of safety 'til I sank it.  
I'm crawling on your shores._

 _I went to the doctor, I went to the mountain.  
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains.  
There's more than one answer to these questions,  
Pointing me in a crooked line, and the less  
I seek my source for some definitive.  
The closer I am to fine, yeah…_

Eventually Charles tired of my inattentive behavior. "Jeanie, did you hear anything I said?"

"Huh?" I turned to face him. "Sure, I did, Charles. You said Honoria shouldn't be husband hunting here. And you are keeping her away from my Lothario because you don't want the encouragement. Did I miss anything else?"

Charles sighed. " _Obviously_ , you learned to read lips."

"Oh, this is not a recent talent. You can blame the infamous Colonel Flagg."

"I was not aware you were _the_ protégé of our little spy."

"So, the camp rumors did not reach your ears?"

Again, Charles sighed. "I _heard_ something, but dismissed it. I could not think the worst of you. You know these barbarians. Every little word is a gold nugget. Even true, I am sure you did nothing wrong. You were but a puppet."

He had a point. I was quiet and allowed the wind and water noises wash over our ears. But our vision was more intent on the participants. While I enjoyed what Trapper enacted, Charles did not. He winced when each note rose and fell. He sought to block out the noise too. I put my hand to his knee to still him.

"What do you to fear, Charles?" I was curious. I wanted to change the topic and keep him distracted from his fears. "It's not like your parents are here."

Charles didn't really take the bait and pushed away my comfort. "They chose not to come. They are not well."

"I am sorry to hear it."

I felt the sentiment was hollow. While Charles' parents traveled to New York for the previous party and were enchanted with Radar's family, they did not seem interested in coming north. From what I heard when Charles spoke to BJ and Hawkeye the previous night, he admitted that they did not feel it was appropriate to join a party not even a year after he came home from Korea and had other social events to attend. They were thinking of joining us next year, wherever that may land.

 _And I went to see the doctor of philosophy.  
With a poster of Rasputin and a beard down to his knees,  
He never did marry or see a B-grade movie.  
He graded my performance.  
He said he could see through me.  
I spent four years, prostrate to the higher mind.  
Got my paper and I was free._

 _I went to the doctor, I went to the mountain.  
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains.  
There's more than one answer to these questions,  
Pointing me in a crooked line, and the less  
I seek my source for some definitive.  
The closer I am to fine, yeah…_

Charles dismissed my apologies. "It's no matter, Jeanie."

This is when I truly examined Charles. While many people were glad to see each other without being in a foreign country under war, Charles was quite different. When he arrived with Honoria and a few of their house servants, he decided to keep house with us. But he was quiet. He did not complain. He sought company with the children. He took long, quiet walks while Honoria mingled with the others, despite her stutter. His words were few too. When Hawkeye was being a pain in the ass, he stood in the middle and argued that I needed space.

Charles was changed. Even though we had seen him off in his usual pompous manner, garbage truck and all, in the year we were away, he had morphed into a human being with _feeling_. He wasn't just the enchanting rich man anymore that sought to get his way and using any means possible, including bribery. He was humbled, beaten to dust by the very succor he used in Korea.

I choked back words of well-being. It was natural for me to reach out to people in need. I always gave to people, even when I could not save myself. It was how I became a nurse. Charles was so tough though. He brushed so much away. I could not figure else how else to reach him without being a nag myself.

I decided to be direct. To begin healing, I had to pull Charles' Band-Aid off. "I know about the Chinese musicians," I said softly. "I am so sorry, Charles. I know how much they meant to you."

He did not reply. I did see some hand twitches, like he was attempting to keep his body from retching out tears. His lips poised themselves into words that would have denied everything. Charles easily could have told me off, stated some witty phrase and walked away, but he didn't. This time, he took my hand and squeezed it.

"'Without music, life will be a mistake', as Nietzsche has quoted," Charles uttered in the same tone. "But my life has been one mistake after another. Music has been one of them."

 _I stopped by the bar at three AM,  
To seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend,  
And I woke up with a headache  
Like my head against the board.  
Twice a cloudy as I'd been the night before,  
And I went in seeking clarity._

 _I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains.  
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains.  
We go to the doctor, we go to the mountains.  
We look to the children, we drink from the fountain.  
Yeah, we go to the Bible, we go through the workout.  
We read up on revival, we stand up for the lookout._

 _There's more than one answer to these questions,  
Pointing me in a crooked line, and the less  
I seek my source for some definitive.  
The closer I am to fine, the closer I am to fine._

When Trapper managed to get this song memorized by the others and they went through I once without a mistake, he laughed. This sounded forced. "Who's up for another?" he called out.

Many consents echoed. Trapper didn't have another of Dean's poems on him, but he decided to keep it traditional and reach out to music that was most recent. Soon, he began songs from Eddie Fisher, Perry Como and even Nat King Cole. Others asked for Tony Bennett, Joni James, Eartha Kitt and Pee Wee Hunt. Trapper would stop mid-song on each request, explaining that they'll get there, one way or another. The light behavior displayed so much youth and elation that I believed that this was making him better.

Charles did not seem the same after his admittance to me. "Shall we go inside?" he inquired.

While I was content sitting outside, I saw something in Charles that made me want to join him instead. I took his offer of help and allowed him to guide me to a kitchen chair. From there, Charles reached to the top cabinet and grabbed my father-in-law's best red wine and two clean glasses. He poured the liquid and gave me one of them.

Charles held up his in a toast. "To memories," he announced with a cruel twist to his lips. It sought to keep solid without falling into a sob. "For without them, we are nothing except empty vessels to a future not worth living."

The words almost made me choke, for what I was seeing was deep. For the first time, Charles showed his inner anguish to me. He was not going to sugarcoat this new layer. The war in Korea had changed him, more than I realized, and this was only the beginning of his life. Like all of us, he dreamed of leaving Korea, but not in the manner we imagined.

Charles waited for my response. I hesitated before raising my glass. I had some words of my own to add to his. It will be my only relief to him for now.

"To the memories that are worth more than who we are," I included, clicking my drink with his. "For without them, we are not the people we should be."

* * *

 **More apologies for the unusually long chapters. There are more where they came from, if this keeps up. :) Lyrics are from the Indigo Girls' song "Closer to Fine".**


	25. A Shift in Power

_May 22, 1954  
Portland, Maine_

 _Right now, Hawkeye and I are sitting in the hospital here in Portland, waiting for my discharge paperwork. This morning had us scared as hell, to be honest. I woke up around four o'clock in a pool of my own blood and a bad back cramp. It was painful enough that I woke Hawkeye up and showed him. He didn't need to exam me. It was alarming enough that he admitted that we had to drive out for help._

 _The uproar was chaotic! Hawkeye had to wake up his Dad and tell him what's going on and run without coffee. Their talking woke up BJ and Charles. Then, Peg was awake and soon throwing up in the bathroom and Honoria was asking what was going on, with the two aides trying to dress her decently (after all, she came out with nothing more than a thin knee-length revealing nightgown). The children (Shannon and Erin) were up next, underfoot as Hawkeye brought me downstairs and gathered supplies if our stay was longer than a day. Daniel was helping him too, with BJ and Charles giving their two cents._

 _While the trio talked over my head, I settled in my rocking chair. I didn't dare move, for fear of ruining it and the rug underneath. I waited patiently. When he calmed down the children and other inhabitants (excluding a frantic Hawkeye), Daniel came up to me with my Army bag. It was filled with clothes and other items, in case the baby was ready to be born. My journal and a pencil were also in there._

" _Thank you, Dad," I said softly. I was touched._

 _I have never seen my father-in-law blush before, proud as can be that our relationship took on another level. He grinned, kissing my forehead. "Anytime."_

 _Finally satisfied, Hawkeye was ready to go. An hour later, we were parked and I was admitted into a room in the maternity ward and Hawkeye was delegated to a waiting area. Three hours later, I was informed after a humiliating scrutiny that I had scarring from previous pregnancies that was causing some of the bleeding. The baby was also situated wrong and moving around enough to cause the cord to sit underneath the head, they think. They couldn't see much with the machine they used._

 _Hawkeye wasn't too happy to leave me alone. However, he had to curb his impatience and anxiety somehow. He paced his space until he was called for consultation. I was with the nurse in my room then, straining my ears to listen. I was not told much otherwise, but the doctor was kind and tried to be gentle with any information he had._

" _You_ think _this is it?" Hawkeye exclaimed outside my room when he was told the news. "Are you sure the right diagnosis, Doctor?"_

" _Doctor Pierce, your wife does not have a strong constitution," the response came bluntly. "From what has been informed by her and the notes from a previous visit and some records, she has been having problems for some time. Her first pregnancy…well, there was no living child. It caused some medical issues that nobody picked up until now."_

" _Yes, and we were told she had to get back up and work like slave in our kitchen. This has been happening for some months. We've kept her under lock and key."_

" _Pierce – Hawkeye – I understand some…doctors…prescribe women to continue their lives like nothing happened. Others might ask that a woman take bottles of pills and lie down. I also think most women don't go to war and come home. Your wife is different from others we see. What I suggest is complete bedrest, until at least a month, maybe two months, after the baby's birth. No walking or other activities, even if she is up to it. Mrs. Pierce is going to have to gradually work her strength up afterward."_

 _Hawkeye was quiet. "How long will she be here?"_

" _We're discharging her in a few hours, once the bleeding has stopped, or keeping her overnight if it does not," the doctor replied uncertainly. It was like he was unsure if he should be allowing it or not. "I suggest bringing her back when she is in labor. In her condition, it's unknown what will happen. You've been doing wonderfully keeping her rested."_

" _I can't just tie her to a bed. She's a mother, formally a nurse. We have a daughter she needs to care for. My father is sixty-four. Our neighbor is just as old. He cannot care for our little girl for long and neither can our neighbor."_

" _I understand. I am sure friends can help too. I hear it's quite a party where you are."_

" _What else do you suggest other than bedrest?"_

" _Well, I won't suggest other remedies. That kind of restlessness cannot be helped, but make her useful, like give her sewing or other things that require her sitting down and concentrating. Normally, doctors these days suggest other…_ things _…to keep women calm. Naturally, they believe in vodka and orange juice or picking up a pack of cigarettes. Mrs. Pierce doesn't seem to be a smoker and has other…well, she has other tastes in alcohol, from what she told me. She didn't drink during her first pregnancy?"_

" _Second, you mean," Hawkeye said tartly. "No, she didn't. Not as far as I knew. She was in Korea, but was not with me most of the time."_

" _What about her first? Do you know anything about it?"_

" _Other than she lost her baby and a lot of blood, no. I don't know anything."_

" _Based on some medical records from then and the Army, there are some clues. We believe some of the difficulties she's had are more than stress. I do not believe war is the only factor. What was her life like before Korea?"_

 _I heard the hesitation in Hawkeye's voice. He was damning me if he said specific details and kept his voice as soft as possible. "A mental hell. Her parents divorced and abused her and her twin brother. Her stepfather took a lot of liberties with her. She drank throughout her life, from when she was a teenager to nursing school and beyond that. She's…hurt herself. She also did some things for the Army that did not help and lost a lot of people. Her relationship before me ended in death."_

" _Some will justify that it's a parents' business to discipline their children. Do you know what happened?"_

" _Yeah, well,_ Doctor _, I don't think using your own children in some sick fantasy is somebody else's business. That sicko also attempted to abuse my daughter when she was just weeks old. I'd be castigating him if he wasn't dead."_

 _There was much more to those empty threats, but I could not hear it. Hawkeye was trying to keep his temper in check. The nurse also noticed that I was eavesdropping and tried calming me. She told me that my place isn't hearing things that are meant for my husband's ears. It will hurt me and the baby._

" _He'll take care of it," she reassured me. "You rest up now, Mrs. Pierce."_

 _But I was not going to listen to her. When she turned her back to get me some medication, I strained my ears again. It sounded like the conversation was over. Hawkeye's tone of voice was defeated and sad while the doctor's seemed sympathetic and caring. The last question I heard quite clearly._

" _Do you want to sit with her?" the doctor asked Hawkeye. "I know most men faint at the sight of their wives…"_

 _There was no hesitation whatsoever. Hawkeye was in my room in seconds and holding me while kicking the nurse out at once, damning the pain medication. We didn't need words. Understanding that there were so many unknown factors made me cautious. We didn't want to speak about it. Being together was enough._

 _Eventually, when words continued to fail us, Hawkeye fell asleep and has been ever since. I allowed him most the bed to be comfortable. I didn't mind. I cannot sleep, even being without coffee. Writing has helped to pass some time, but my hand is cramping. I need to stop._

 _I touched my enlarging belly. I have a few more weeks left. I could not bear losing another baby. I had to follow these instructions, despite what I wanted. Our lives depended on it._

~00~

While the partying continued outside, my world grew smaller and was confined to one room. If I thought Hawkeye and his Dad allowing me freedom of the house while taking care of my whims was cautious, they were stricter than ever. It did not help that Charles, Colonel Potter, BJ and Trapper were on their side. One of them was always watching the doorway. If one of them saw my shadow, they rushed upstairs and had me in bed faster than the call for wounded was.

The only movement I was allowed to going to the bathroom (I was glad for the lack of bedpan), taking a bath with help (no showers allowed for now), getting dressed twice a day and stretching in the bed (and all with help). Margaret always present for those tasks. Telling everybody else to suck lemons and to answer to her fists (no joke), she has been getting up early and arriving here, waking us up to begin the day. Hawkeye did not appreciate her presence before coffee, but he didn't have much of a fight. He gave that up with Margaret ages ago.

And with so many people around, there was always somebody taking care of things. The girls cleaned the house under Margaret's direction if Mrs. Pettigrew didn't come over or Mrs. O'Reilly wasn't telling them everything was done wrong. The other women always catered to Shannon's needs if Hawkeye and Dad were not able to. Everybody also took turns sitting with me if they were not giving medical judgments or telling me what to do. If I was not sleeping or reading, I had endless card games, gossip from the girls and toasting something or somebody with a glass of wine. Sometimes, that meant kicking people out too.

The usual daytime activities continued, regardless of my condition. Games were still conducted. People still met each other and fought (BJ and Trapper had to break up one between Zale and Klinger when the former decided to insult Soon-Lee). Hikes ended up with tales of adventure and daring exploits. Fishing and lobster catching were popular pastimes. The residents of Crabapple Cove conducted more tours, glad to transform their small town into somewhat of a sightseer location. Hell, the town counsel even created a center with information about the town!

Nights were calmer. The usual gang liked to spend quieter evenings as the parties in town grew too boring. Usually, I had the Swamp rats splitting up the still gin while I sipped on my wine. Hawkeye had done a wonderful job with its upkeep and the contents remained as potent as ever before (according to the colonel, Charles, BJ and Hawkeye). However, we had better ingredients than dirty socks, cough syrup and the occasional baked good. This made for some drunken nights for the men.

Trapper's last night until his second return came during this time. He already kissed me good night and wished me well. He was pretty damned drunk when he checked in too, so I disregarded his sloppy attempts at a farewell and smiled through the madness. I mean, I had BJ, Charles and Hawkeye for company already and the three were talking philosophically about life in general and toasting anything sinister and cynical.

The initiating Swampman seemed offended by the talk. "My, my, how serious we've gotten!" Trapper exclaimed. "Have we forgetting certain ladies are present?"

"And one nearby, I am sure," Hawkeye replied. He rubbed his red nose. "Speaking of ladies, has anyone seen Margaret?"

"Last I saw her, she was on the beach," BJ mentioned casually. With that, the sozzled foursome immediately went to the window.

Our bedroom faced the left side of the house and we were able to see the side of the house to the ocean through the windows. From above, one can see the grey waters, tan sand and most activities from that angle. From my position, I saw some of it and was glad of the merriment. Somebody had dug up a pit and began a fire. They were roasting marshmallows. Others were so inebriated that there was some wild dancing, screaming and general mayhem. And in the middle of all of the action, with a drink in her hands and laughing, was Margaret.

She was talking with the colonel and Dad about something. I couldn't see what it was about, since her lips were too far away to read. But Keith was hanging onto her left side, adding a sort of excitement to the conversation by waving his hands to tell his side of the story. Their audience was pretty enthused and smiled in encouragement. But this was not the point.

"Dad should be leading her off in a few seconds here," Hawkeye announced. "In three, two, one…"

Almost on Hawkeye's exact cue, Dad cut into the talks and waved the group over to the water. Margaret seemed to find this exciting and it appeared that she nagged at Keith to come along with the older pair. I didn't understand what the hype was, but went along with the joke. It was close to the end of May and swimming season was almost here. By the time everybody leaves, the water will just be warm enough to splash in.

It was pretty obvious that Dad was leading them through that specific pathway on purpose. He didn't need to even position anybody. It was very natural, like he was the perfect host in showing them our home, and he worked it out to his advantage. It was only seconds later, we all heard a screech and a crash. Margaret had walked into the trap and landed softly…into bushes with thin thorns.

Trapper, BJ and Hawkeye were in hysterics. I giggled too. What made it funnier was seeing Colonel Potter and Dad trying hard not to laugh. Keith too was snickering, but he helped Margaret back up and remained stoic. He brushed off her clothes and talked about what could have possibly happened. Dad and the colonel also exclaimed the same concerns.

But Margaret was not fooled. "The pranks will never end, will they?!" we heard her scream. "Oh, they're going to get it!"

" _Gentlemen_ , my hat is off to you," Charles declared. He raised is glass to the trio. "To the authors of such a joke."

Trapper, BJ and Hawkeye congratulated themselves on a job well done. I even had to admit that they still had it in them. But the last laughs were on them. Margaret was angry enough that she stormed inside and was stomping upstairs _quickly_. That was their cue.

BJ finished his drink and dropped his glass to the floor. "I think Peg wants me to watch Erin," he declared before dashing out. "She's gotta be tired by now."

"Kellye has Shannon," Hawkeye added after him, multiplying the glassware in its wayward spot. "I think I'll pick her up. It's her bedtime anyway."

While Trapper said something about being with Louise and the girls, Charles felt like he was not a part of this and opted to remain behind with me to tell Margaret the truth. He continued drinking as she entered without noticing their escapes, fists clenched to punch somebody. Indeed, Charles was the picture of calm. This infuriated Margaret more.

" _You_!" she yelled. "You! How could you?!"

" _Margaret_ , I am surprised," Charles said with feigned concern. "You know that Jeanie has been trying to rest. Bringing so much excitement will not be good for her and the baby."

"It's not you I am looking for, you creep!" she replied. "Although you instigate far too much! Where are those degenerates?"

"Somewhere that isn't here obviously." Charles waved his hands around my bedroom. "They took flight with excuses as flimsy as their wings."

"You better be right, buster." Margaret was so fast and furious that she was soon in Charles' face, with a finger close to his nose. "If I find you responsible, you'll be sorrier than the others!"

She hardly gave me an apology. I didn't expect one. Glad to be ignored, I wiggled my fingers in farewell and heard the former head nurse stomp downstairs. When Keith and Dad ask her downstairs if she was ok, she shouted that she had enough and to leave her alone. With such concern, they asked themselves what had gotten into her.

Nearby, Charles chuckled. "She is still a hurricane, isn't she?"

"Quite." I raised my glass and took another gulp.

Charles finished his drink and got up to crunches under his feet. He cursed loudly and excused his words. Apparently, he forgot about the abandoned pieces Hawkeye and BJ left and stepped on it, enough that both broke. Shards popped up from the hardwood. Luckily, he was not hurt.

"Fret not, Jeanie," Charles announced. "I will have this mess cleaned up. Those barbarians will pay for their mistake."

I was about to noise a complaint about being able to do it myself…until I remembered that I wasn't supposed to be getting up. Charles didn't even notice my confusion. He left and called Hawkeye and BJ up, interjecting into their sudden new conversation. The two were back in the living room, arguing with Margaret about their prank. Trapper had somehow managed to escape.

I knew that it was going to be a while before Hawkeye was coming back. He was also going to be too intoxicated to be able to clean up his mess. Charles was going to be lost without having somebody to help and might have to corral his help. I had to do it myself.

I had not been walking much the last couple of days. I flexed my legs before daring to stand on my own. When my feet hit the floor, they were as shaky as before, but were excited about this giddy freedom (I mean, it was a few steps and not a walk on the beach). Off and running, I was soon waddling over. I didn't have an aide or anything to hold onto to. For the first time in some months, I was liberated from the strain of assistance.

It didn't last too long anyway. I got to the end of our bed (which, by the way, did not have anything at its foot) and collapsed on my side. I missed the untidiness by inches.

Footsteps quickly stomped up the stairs. Hawkeye and Dad were already by my side. BJ and Charles were close behind. All of them – sober, I might add – kept shouting questions at me all at once, enough that a large crowd formed in our hallway. I dismissed them with a hand wave and got up on my own, gripping the end of my mattress tightly.

Suddenly, I was annoyed with myself and felt foolish. I was also embarrassed. I should have been following through with my bedrest, not being a housewife and hostess. It was too easy to fall back into that trap, even if it was at the foot of my bed.

Dad saw this and pushed the crowds back. "She's all right," he announced. "Show's over. Back downstairs, everyone."

A pissed off Margaret tried pushing herself in to help, but BJ blocked her pathway. She demanded that she enter because _she_ was in charge. That was when Charles made himself second defense. He stood next to BJ in the doorway and began arguing with her, arms crossed. When the accusations grew louder, Dad had to get involved. Hawkeye helped me back into bed just as Margaret hmphed and left.

"When are you ever going to learn?" BJ asked me.

"Learn what?" I pretended to be innocent, going as far as batting my eyelashes for good measure. "I didn't do anything strenuous."

"To hell you didn't," Hawkeye mumbled under his breath.

"Hawkeye, _don't_ ," Dad warned.

"I told you I was going to get this cleaned up," Charles added. He looked at me specifically.

"And nothing is near completed," I complained. The childish façade was abandoned for now. "Listen, we all had some excitement. Why don't –"

"No, you're not calling the shots," Dad declared in his best parental voice that allowed no arguments. "Not right now anyway. If I have to hogtie you to your bed, so be it. Stay. In. _Bed_."

"So, you're giving me a dream come true?" Hawkeye asked him.

"Oh, what a wonderful night it is to be gagging in the bedroom," I sang in my Debbie Reynolds voice.

"Oh, Jesus," BJ muttered.

"Here we go again," Charles said at the same time.

"Can you _believe_ them?"

"Beej, I can hardly understand _why_ their childishness continues to this day."

Charles and BJ went on about our immature sexual comments for a few minutes, taking it downstairs with them. Dad looked at us funny, cocking his eye and raising the eyebrow. He had a few comments on the tip of his tongue, I'm sure, but he kept it to himself. It was enough we swept the seriousness under a rug.

"I'll leave you two to it then," he only stated. He seemed resigned. "I'll send Shannon in to say good night in a few minutes."

This left me and Hawkeye. We peered at each other with our guard down finally. Without words, he knew how I felt. I didn't need to hear from him again how important it was to remain stationary. I read his face though – so full of worry and anxiety – and noted how much he truly needed me, in the here and now and how strong he had to be. It made me guilty all over again.

When he leaned in, I kissed him. "I love you."

Hawkeye returned the favor. Soon, we were diving deeper. In-between kisses, he replied back in the same manner. Before I knew it, he was on the bed and using his best vampire techniques on me, enough that I was laughing and pushing him away all at once. However, when he heard small feet threading across the hallway to come in, he pulled away and portrayed himself as the perfect angel.

When Shannon weepily said good night and left, Hawkeye was back at it. The problem was, he kept getting interrupted. BJ and Charles wanted another drink, so he picked up the pieces I went for and told them to wait. Then, Trapper actually wanted to say goodbye. Off he went again! And _then_ , Shannon was up with Erin, wanting another bedtime story…

Eventually, the last time Hawkeye arrived, I told him to just enjoy himself. He didn't to always be near me and I told him so. I was ready for some alone time anyway. I need some time to ponder the events of the last few days. It had been pretty damned busy. But what got to me was how quickly things changed. It wasn't just the people here that have transformed. I felt something was off between myself and my family.

With a start, I realized something. No longer was I referring to my father-in-law by his first name. Without thinking about it, I noted to myself that he was Dad now.


	26. From the Living to the Dead

_May 25, 1954  
Crabapple Cove, Maine_

 _It's been another quiet few days. The only excitement was the mail and catching up on the news (political, social and otherwise). Some people had their items forwarded to here with our permission. Other than bills and bank statements, many are enjoying letters and other greetings like they did in Korea. Hawkeye and I received the usual monthly items, but something else came in. Radar actually brought it in to me._

" _Mail call," he announced._

 _I was amused and kept it to myself. I put my book down on the bed. "Radar, you don't need to say that anymore."_

 _He shrugged his shoulders. "Why? It's mail call. Your Dad asked me to deliver it to you. He's higher up than I am."_

" _We're not in the Army anymore. And as far as I am aware, Dad has not been either."_

" _I am still handing out the mail and it's still your mail in my hands. So, there Ma'am!"_

 _I didn't argue the logic. It was very true. I shook my head and held out my hand for my mail. Radar handed it to me just as his mother called for him. Mrs. O'Reilly had been a heavy presence, I have to say. While she has been keeping Radar in line (and has yelled at him many times for trying to smoke and drinking with the others), she has been most helpful. She keeps most of the women in line (excluding Margaret because there is no controlling her). She has a tight leash over the crowds that want to see me. She cooks and cleans too, despite her arthritis._

 _She also mentioned in passing that "Walter" was engaged to some local girl named Sandy. While Radar has been shy about talking about his intended and opted not to bring her, he did let up and tell Hawkeye and BJ all of the details, including how he thinks his fiancée might have cheated on him. He's not sure._

" _How can you tell?" he asked Hawkeye and BJ._

That _was a pretty heavy question. I mean, if you love someone and want to marry him or her, why doubt now? What was holding Radar back from cancelling anything? Or how did he figure this out, with his jammed and naïve radar? Did something seem off with Sandy?_

 _BJ and Hawkeye were confused by the question. The two did try their best to tell the twenty-two-year-old what the signs are and to be cautious who he marries. Radar was just jumbled and listened as he always did. Something did not click with him though. He eventually excused himself and stated that he had to find his mother because she was probably chasing Klinger and Soon-Lee off again. Apparently, Mrs. O'Reilly is a still…well, wary of couples who are different races. She did not understand that the pair were married._

 _Anyway, back to the mail issue! I have to say, I was surprised by what I received, other than the usual items. The first was a letter from my father. It was postmarked in Washington, DC, which means that he either is there or the letter managed to somehow get its stamp on the way from some other foreign country he's touring. I was curious and opened the envelop._

 _I didn't realize I held my breath until I finished. When I did, I was surprised how heavy it felt on my shoulders. Daddy announced that he is heading to some country called Vietnam. Right now, he's settled in the capital and reporting his findings of fighting in Korea and writing_ _his_ _version of some of the battles he's seen, inspections he's conducted and the doings of his youngest children, who have contributed much to the war. That way, when the next war comes, we are more prepared for the Communist Menace._

 _Those familiar shivers went down my spine. I didn't want to think about another war. We just got out of Korea. Why stop there? What's another country immersed in Communism? What the hell business is it of ours anyway? I mean, I remember hearing about Vietnam. France was fighting them because they rebelled. Why do we need to go there?_

 _The news hasn't been so hot when it comes to those bad Communist Reds. I know that I was part of the Berlin Blockade in the late 40's and that alone was part of this supposed "Red Scare". And with Senator McCarthy tooting his horn since the war, it has been a scary time. Margaret had quite a close shave and we learned to skirt around the issue. We've had to watch more famous people fall through the television and newspaper reports. It's enough to make me ashamed of being an American._

 _And why report what Dean and I did? Dean was part of an experimental company and it worked well until almost the end of the war, when men and resources were sorely required. Eisenhower wanted to show off his muscle power after all. And me…well, MASH units were such a success that the Army sought to copy ours many times over. They were part of the essential mechanics of the military now and will be required soon enough._

 _Daddy ended his missive calmly enough. It wasn't so formal or informative like his previous narrative was. He did tell me in his own way that he still loved me and that there will always be a place in the capital if I needed it, in case things with Hawkeye and Dad did not work out. He acknowledged that our long-distance relationship might be best for now too. He wasn't ready to meet Shannon again and most certainly felt I required some room for the new baby._

 _He ended his letter like this:_

Pictures will suffice, Daughter. Please write back and let me be a man. I understand that it is difficult. The past is hard to let go. I have been a harsh and unrelenting keeper. But you've allowed me in so far. Don't ever regret it.

 _It's so strange, I must say. We made our truce in Korea, just before the wedding. Since then, even though it has been hard, we've been treading on eggshells. I mean, General "Heartless" Morrison making peace with himself and his family? Being a grandfather and great-grandfather? What a concept! He hasn't even had an emotion to spare since his first wife died._

 _Well, the other letter was somewhat strange. It was postmarked in New Hampshire and the returnee was someone named Theresa C. Xavier. Most certainly, I didn't know anybody in that state and the handwriting wasn't so familiar. It was addressed as "Jeanette Morrison (Pierce?)". I was anxious opening it, teeming with anticipation and curiosity all at once. I believed that it must have been a mistake and this person must have sent me something by error. Nobody referred me by my maiden name anymore, not even in town._

 _Taking another deep breath, I opened it. I scanned the first line, feeling it safe because it brought to me nostalgia and insecurity all at once. I relaxed a little more as I read on and grew pretty excited with each passing word. By the end, I was on a roller coaster ride. This is why:_

Dearest Jeanie,

It's been many years since I've written to you. We have not spoken since just before you left for Europe. Even so, I've been trying to reach you. Our friendship in nursing school and beyond is too precious – I hope it's not too late?

You are probably wondering who I am. The envelop has my married name. I _was_ Theresa Claire Vincent, but you always called me TC back in the old days. We were in basic training and then went to nursing school together. In your drunken memories somewhere, you'll remember a redhead who loved nothing more than to live up to her military father and to be of some use. You were the discarded daughter of an important Army officer and sought to forget him and the chaos he allowed to happened.

It was a distant relationship that changed into something warmer, as I recall it. I mean, you weren't so keen to keep friends and liked to keep to yourself. It wasn't a completely inseparable situation to me, but I sure as hell felt you were pretty damned fun to be with. Even if you were forgetting things, having you was a joy and you were a valuable friend. You sure had some sound advice.

I have been trying to find you for almost ten years now. Just don't get the idea in your head that it's all I did! In between locating you, I had to move on too and I had other girls I made friends with. The Army was a wonderful career until I married and started having children. I was discharged and have been living in New Hampshire since 1949. My husband was an officer in Korea and he lost his life there shortly after our third son was born last year. I have been working and raising our children alone.

I know this is possibly too much to handle. I shouldn't be pouring my heart out to you so soon after finding you so close to me. It's been some years and you're probably have this thought running in your head – "Why is this strange woman writing to me, especially after all this time?" Trust me, as soon as I managed to find your address, I was feeling stuck between being brazen and being frightened.

I also understand if you don't want to keep in touch. You weren't much of a writer. But I'd love to hear from you. Please let me know.

 _I was floored. I had to read the letter several times before memories danced before my eyes. Of course! How could I have forgotten about TC? She pushed to be friends with me. I was a loner for most of my early Army career. Other than the drill sergeant who was sweet on me, I had numerous one-nighters and drank alone until she pushed herself in._

 _At the time, I didn't want somebody in my life. She seemed to have tagged along for most of my ride, until I was shipped to West Germany. I could not keep in touch with her, per Flagg's orders, and had to immerse myself in work to forget her and my former life. But she was a sweet woman._

 _Immediately, I felt sadness. Even though she knew how the Army worked (her father was some big officer like mine, but always rooted for her), she still lost so much in the big Korean gamble. And she spent time looking for me? I told her not to in the first place, before shipping out to West Germany. The new identity Flagg had me maintain meant that nobody could be locating me. It meant a risk to security._

 _Touched, I went to grab some paper and began writing. Soon, I was seeing that it was going to take a few times to reach to her because there was so much to tell her. News about my whereabouts and activities before, during and after Korea could wait. Just imagining that dimpled smile was enough to make me remember those drunken nights. She always got me out of trouble. I always made sure she was keeping up with the work. It was a fair trade._

 _Oops, I hear Hawkeye calling me. He sounds pretty pissed off. What could it be now?_

~00~

I put my journal down. I was annoyed already that I was being disturbed, since there was a sign on the door that clearly stated that I was to be left alone today. I had to write about an old friend and my father writing me and it was exciting to read such news from the incoming mail. And now, my husband shouting my name?

 _It had better be a good reason._

Hawkeye immediately barged into our bedroom, dragging Klinger with him. "Here, keep him in there," he announced, practically throwing the former Lebanese clerk on the bed. "I need to deal with Zale."

"What _now_?" I moaned. I wasn't happy and moved my papers and journal to one side.

"Vulture beak seems to be the best insult he's got," Klinger began softly.

I waved my hand. "I don't want to hear it. Stay here."

"Zale is next on the hit list," Hawkeye sighed. He pointed a finger at Klinger. "Don't upset her. You hear me?"

"Loud and clear, oh great Former Captain and Chief Surgeon," Klinger vowed, raising his hand like a scout. He lowered it, turning serious. "I'll come get you if something's wrong."

Hawkeye left without another word in. He muttered down the stairs though, swearing that he was going to strangle somebody, resuscitate them and _then_ try killing them again if this keeps up. BJ met him at the bottom of the stairs, talking about Zale like he was next on the menu, and they were off for the hunt. This left the two of us alone.

It was awkward at first. I haven't really talked with Klinger since he arrived here some days ago. Since then, he's been mingling with others and showing off his wife. Soon-Lee didn't really spend time with the girls who flocked to my side and took Shannon a few times to the beach because she asked me nicely. She appeared like she did not belong amongst the rest of the gang and made a point of trying every way to fit in. However, with her pathway to citizenship a dream coming true soon enough, making herself home in the most famous free state in the world was going to take time.

Klinger realized this and was trying every which way to prove how wonderful it was, even here in Maine. I saw through his mask though. He missed Toledo. I heard enough from the colonel to know how hurt he is. His own family, rejecting him over a marriage? Angry that he stayed in Korea until the end of the year, searching for a family who now aimed to come to America? It was unheard of in the Klinger clan!

"So, what's been new?" Klinger asked me. It seemed to break the ice.

I laughed. "What do you think?"

"I think you've been busy with Hawkeye in the bedroom. Geez, is that all you two do, Jeanie?"

"I've been busy elsewhere. There's been enough to keep me occupied."

"Wanna tell me about it? I mean, other than your little girl?"

"You tell me your story first. I heard you're living in Missouri."

Klinger's face darkened. "Yeah. I got discharged and went to live with the colonel and Mrs. Potter. They're pretty nice, keeping me and Soon-Lee together. They even tell their neighbors that it's no big deal. They moved from that big house, did you know?"

"Oh, the one they just paid in full last year?" I was intrigued. "I didn't. I just heard the colonel went to work for the VA."

"John J. Pershing General," Klinger confirmed. "He and the Missus moved to River Bend."

I was mildly surprised now. "I thought they'd stay where they are? I mean, that's where their family is. They can easily see the grandchildren."

"Colonel got bored. He can't sit and play and do housework all day. That isn't what he was meant for."

"I see your point."

"So, I…umm…got into trouble a few times. Colonel's been trying to bail me out. He's also trying to get me a job too. It's been so tough, Jeanie. Umm…jail ain't so easy to deal with, you know?"

I smiled and patted his hand. "I understand."

"Do you?" Klinger's eyes lit up, almost like he had a scheme in mind to escape to Toledo. "Maybe if I do enough and bail out, Mom will –"

"Getting the wrong type of attention isn't going to solve anything," I interjected quickly. "Trust me. I spent my life lying to my mother. No other way to get her off of my back. It was the wrong way to get her attention. I think I would have rather gone without. But the sentiment is there."

Klinger nodded. Then, he noted my letters. "Say! What did you get?"

I was a little protective of my mail. I tried covering it, but Klinger was faster. He saw the one from Daddy first. He clucked his tongue at the fancy marks from DC and did not open it. The second caught his interest.

"New Hampshire?" He was suddenly fascinated and pulling TC's letter out. When I reached to swat him, Klinger moved out of my way and hopped from the bed. "Oh, ho! What do we have here, Former Captain Wife? Is this a letter from another admirer?"

"No," I quickly said. I tried snagging it back. "Give it here, Klinger. I won't have Hawkeye hurt you later."

"If I can run from the law, I can run from Hawkeye," Klinger reassured me as he danced towards the window. In the light, I saw him unfold the creases and read the first lines. "Say, _somebody_ hasn't seen you in a long time…"

"Klinger, I am _warning_ you," I yelled, pissed off. This time, I damned all caution and got up, stumbling to get to him. "Get that letter back to me!"

Somebody heard us from the hallway. Luckily, it wasn't Hawkeye and Dad. It was Sidney. He grabbed me from behind and sat me back on the bed. He also looked severely at Klinger.

"My, my, Max, how we've grown," he commented. "I first saw you in a dress and bonnet. You've moved into bigger and better ventures. You even went into a uniform. Now, we've moved on to puberty. Will you ever cease growing?" He put his hand out for my private correspondence.

"Aww, come on, Doctor Freedman, it was all in the spirit of fun," Klinger complained. He handed the letter over to Sidney. "I thought Jeanie might like some spice."

"I've had enough, thank you," I said tartly.

Sidney returned the papers to me. I thanked him wordlessly. I don't think he noticed though. Sidney was more interested in Klinger than my gratitude.

"Well, there's been enough excitement with you and Zale already," Sidney continued. "Think you can keep it down? I still have a good example to set. My son shouldn't be seeing all the action Korea brought home."

"Does that mean we can still play poker?" Klinger asked. He shuffled his feet like a child, enough that I almost snickered.

"Wait, wait, wait," I jumped in. "There's a poker game? When?"

"Tomorrow night," Sidney clarified to me, "but we're not moving it up here. _Now_ ," he directed it back to Klinger, "from what I understand, Zale is out of sight. Hawkeye said he hit the road and went back to base. You're free to go."

Klinger hooted and rushed out faster than being told he had a twenty-four pass to Seoul. He hardly uttered a goodbye. Downstairs, I could still hear him shouting in joy. It was enough that Soon-Lee had to tell him to shut up.

I was grateful to Sidney, more than I showed. "You have no idea of how much of a pest he is."

"I think after seeing him as Joan Crawford with red hair, I'll pass." Sidney found a chair in the hallway and sat facing me. "How are you doing?"

"Surprised," I admitted, holding up TC's message. "Old acquaintance from nursing school wrote. Didn't think I'd hear from her again, but found out that she had been trying to locate me. I didn't even bother writing since leaving for West Germany."

"Better safe than sorry," Sidney replied. "You have a knack for moving forward and not looking back unless you can't shake it off. You can't run away forever." He paused. "Besides, what are you gonna do? Tear it up and forget about it?"

"I haven't decided yet," I confirmed. "I started to write something, but couldn't find the words. Sometimes, they fail me. What can you tell a person who knew about your life before the Army and helped you get past some of it? I missed you, sorry about security clearance and all that, I couldn't write about you or think about you? That Korea did me in too?"

"Not yet," Sidney cautioned. "I'd say, give it a few days. Stew on it. And if I catch you at the poker game tomorrow night, I think I'll raise the stakes and bet twenty bucks and my mother-in-law's best Sunday hat that you'll stay in and not be dragged back up here in chains."

I laughed and waved him away. "Off with you then. I'll save my strength and take up the challenge."

Sidney left with his seat. As soon as he did, the house was suddenly quiet and everything seemed so far away. The floor also seemed cooler than usual. I pulled a blanket closer and laid back down. As soon as I did, something caught in the corner of my eye. I checked the source and found nothing, not even a passing body. It was like the person disappeared.

I took a deep breath. Even though the last few years changed many beliefs, I still had to keep calm. I had to reassure myself that nothing was there. But I knew in my heart that there was real movement. It was not my imagination.

Shit. It could have been anybody. Even here, I was not going to escape eying the dead.


	27. Bets on the Table

That night, I couldn't sleep. Many things weighted heavily on my mind. It wasn't just the possibility of ghosts and spirits that roamed so freely. It was TC's letter too. The way she wrote, reminding me of so many things before West Germany and Korea, stirred something inside of me that I thought I forgot.

Even the living made quite a stir in my insomnia. Other than the usual festivities and the baby moving around, Hawkeye hardly made an effort to be quiet. He stumbled into the bedroom after midnight and was laughing so loud that Dad had to tell him to tone it done. Even so, he was giggling long into the night, until three in the morning, and eventually was snoring away. He was no help to me.

It left me with too many thoughts. I kept revisiting them so many times, but this time, it was different. It was a person of the past. _Nobody_ before my tenure in Korea, save for Greg Keller (and maybe Flagg, if he's alive) and Lorraine and her daughters, was alive to speak to me or was around to reminisce about old times. I lost track of so many people I've worked with and the people I've known and grown up with. Hell, even the people Mom went to church with and I socialized in Bloomington are so far away. They were not friends anyway.

TC was…well, she stood out. Upon my liberation from Bloomington, at nearly eighteen, I did not care much for female company (much as I did today). I was a solitary drinker and welcomed any man to my bed, no strings attached and no children wanted. I was _never_ one for chasing men, but I used the opposite sex for my own means, to satisfy an emptiness I could not define, and continued to use whatever means I could to advance in the Army. Gin just made my life more bearable and easier to cope with, especially on those lonely nights.

She was on the bottom bunk in basic training. Although whispering to the other girls late into the night, TC always punched my mattress and asked for my opinion on things. I never answered. I rolled over and ignored her.

"Leave Morrison alone," the girls said to TC. "She's just strange."

TC didn't heed their advice and hounded me onward, all the way through nursing school. She needed a study buddy and she somehow understood that I needed a friend. She figured out most of what happened to me. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see scars on my wrists, an uneasy appetite for sexual adventure and drunken nights alone in the supply room if I didn't have company. I supposed that it was a match made in heaven.

I didn't study her as much as I usually do with people these days. TC told me so much about her life throughout lunches out, studying in a quiet spot or even taking a break from the men. She was an only child. Her father was like mine – Regular Army, went through several wars, etc. He was as old as mine when we were born too (TC and I were born just weeks apart in the same hospital at Fort Leavenworth). While mine disregarded me when it was convenient, TC's father adored her. Her mother died giving birth to her and he spent enormous amounts of time and energy empowering and building her up.

Her zeal for life was a change to what I was used to. The Army was a way for me to run away. TC used it to make her father proud. She also showed me the positive side of life and tried to ease the bottle out of my hands and the men off of my targeted back and to use the Army as a way to be respectable, even if I could not command. If I had control over myself, then the rest will follow, she told me.

What TC could not change was my view in men. At the time, I saw them as scum, and upheld this belief up until my relationship with Falk. She thought that the right man would come along and completely sweep me off of my feet. Oh, was she ever the romantic, more than Margaret ever was!

"You have to work on it, Jeanie," she'd preach. "Relationships aren't so easy."

I snorted, twenty-something-year-old that I was. "In my experience, relationships are worthless. There is no trust, no love and no advantage."

TC sighed in exasperation. "But that the _point_ of them! You need more than love, trust and advantage. How about mutual respect too?"

"Oh, tell me something I _don't_ know."

"You just know what it's like to be with a cheater. Clarence is nothing like a real man. Dad is a real gentleman."

"People consider him respectable. He's a church man and is considered a gentleman. Nobody will believe such an angel would use his stepdaughter and other girls."

The argument went around and around for months. It didn't change until I switched professions. When I met Falk, everything TC ever taught me about relationships went with it. Falk confirmed everything she ever told me and made me believe that there was such thing as a happy ending. Well, that is, until he went to the Soviet Union and died on our mission to bring them down. After his death, I never thought love would come to me, less than a year after he was killed, and that great man spent a war with me and now slept beside me.

I turned my lamp on and read TC's letter again. The words danced before my tired eyes. I had so many more questions for her that my mind grew excited. But I had to be cautious as well. I knew that my circle of women friends was growing. All of them had a purpose in my life and grew another part of me (military and civilian). Where did TC land me? Was she truly a piece of the past that I had to forget or was she also the future, where we could bond together over children and losses?

"What's bothering you?" Hawkeye's muffled voice echoed from his side of the bed.

"Nothing." I turned the light off. "I've been thinking."

"Ever since the mail came, you've been going back and forth. What did your father say?"

"He's been busy. It's not him I'm worried about. He's mentioned war again, but that's in the future."

"Then, what is it?"

I switched the light back on and pulled out the other problem. "Here, read this. What do you think?" I passed the open pages over.

Hawkeye wasn't quite awake. He sat up and rubbed his eyes before reading. As he did, his smile grew larger. He was almost laughing by the time he finished.

"I never knew you played well with others!" he exclaimed, chafing his hands in anticipation, most likely readying himself for a joke or three. "Who is this person?"

"Someone I knew in nursing school," I replied honestly. "I had to give her up for Flagg's Lent and the hell called Korea."

"Seems like you two had more you had to give up," Hawkeye commented. He held onto the mystery, thinking too. "Are you going to write back?"

"I think I'll sit on it," I decided, opting to stick with my gut and Sidney's advice from earlier. "I know it's her. It's not a forgery. But I can't fathom what to say after so much time. There's also so much going on here…"

I let the thought trail. Hawkeye understood. He put the incriminating evidence away on his side and curled right into me. He was so peaceful after a frivolous night drinking that I decided to slip into his slumbers with him. Before I knew it, it was morning and Margaret was at the door. She barged right in and started pulling the blankets off of us. This earned Hawkeye's ire, from the bed to the bathroom and as he sought freedom with the other men. Then, I was alone with the former head nurse.

"Well?" she demanded. "You going to start your day or be a mope?"

I complied with everything that Margaret requested and more. By the time I was finished being dressed and groomed, I was back in bed, comfortable in pants and a shirt. I planned on allowing Shannon in and taking a nap with her when BJ entered. He crossed his arms, annoyed with something. This caught my attention, even though his focus was on Margaret.

"What?" Margaret asked, exasperated. She didn't look at BJ as she mindlessly cleaned my bedroom.

"Margaret, I think you need to sit down," BJ cautioned. "I sure as hell needed a chair after hearing this."

Now, Margaret was interested. She continued her work though, perhaps hoping that it would hold her up. " _Oh_? What's so important?"

"We heard through the grapevine that Ferret Face is coming," BJ confirmed seriously. "He began assaulting women and is coming this way."

~00~

What began as a wonderful reminder of friendship and comradery now transformed into one of defense and chaos. As soon as BJ announced that Frank was heading towards Crabapple Cove, the rumors spread and people mostly panicked. Even stuck upstairs as I was, I heard the commotion. Some scattered or made excuses to leave. Others banded together to keep old Ferret Face away. A few decided to ignore it all and get on with their days in beautiful Crabapple Cove.

Margaret most certainly wasn't going to take it. She wasn't afraid of Frank and showed her brave face well… _too well_ , I noted. However, she had to be protected, especially if Frank was on a rampage. Instead of remaining with Eddie, she had to move in with us and camp out with Erin and Shannon in their room. Keith didn't want to leave her, so set up a cot in Dad's room.

Colonel Potter had to explain how it was found out about Frank, sitting us down in my bedroom as soon as BJ relayed the news. Apparently, Greg Keller had been keeping tabs on Ferret Face. As soon as he made lieutenant colonel, my old buddy from West Germany decided it was best to monitor him and make sure that losing Margaret wasn't all Frank lost and give us a call when hell broke loose.

Well…it did. Frank's marriage went on the rocks again and his wife and daughters began to find ways to stay away. The job at the VA hardly held and his decisions were as good as the tuna being changed every thousand miles. Every blonde woman Frank saw was attacked, so nurses, receptionists, secretaries and more had to either dye their hair, quit their job or be transferred elsewhere.

"Good God," Margaret said. "Can the MPs catch him?"

"I sure as hell hope so," the colonel replied. "If not, we'll round him up here and send him back."

"Postage paid, I hope," I commented.

The colonel nodded. "Well, at least we didn't quite start this mess. Burns knew about the reunion. He didn't act on it until now."

"What got his goat?" I asked. I was curious.

"Seems like he snapped," it was explained. "Burns saw a new nurse with blonde hair. She didn't get the memo and was soon being attacked and being called Margaret. The MPs barged in, saw that he was trying to take her clothes off and suck on her toes."

Margaret blushed the worst shade of red. "With all of my heart, I regret having relations with him."

"Listen, Margaret, we all have a moment. This one just takes the cake. We'll take care of it."

"But it doesn't explain Jeanie's question of why he'd head this way."

"He thought the nurse was you and, when she ran off screaming, he figured he'd catch her over here. He remembered what Hawkeye said and decided to take a one-way ticket eastbound."

"And tackle every blonde on the way," I finished.

Colonel Potter shook his head. "Jackass Burns. I thought we saw the last of him."

"We just won't tell him about the reunion next year," I vowed.

"It's be right in Missouri," he agreed.

Margaret conceded. "At least we'll be better protected."

From that point onward, Margaret stayed with me. Keith was nearby too, pacing between the front door and the bedroom. It was enough that BJ and Hawkeye had to haul him away and distract him elsewhere (namely betting on who was going to win the race from one end of the beach to the other and then monitoring the new soccer games). This upset Margaret enough that she almost followed him. I stopped her.

"Why don't we talk?" I patted the bed. "Bring some of the girls in. I'd like some company. Do you mind?"

Margaret didn't. Immediately, she was off and gathering as many nurses as she could. The only one she managed to get on short notice was Kellye. My old friend brought my daughter in too. Shannon jumped on the bed and bounced, enough that I nearly toppled over. But I could not stay mad at her (or Kellye, for that matter). It was enough to see smiles and giggles.

Kellye brought in some toys for Shannon to play with while we waited for Margaret to return. While my daughter colored a picture on Hawkeye's nightstand, Kellye took over the other side of the mattress and made herself right at home. She fluffed Hawkeye's pillows behind her head, relaxing as she sunk deeper into the blankets. It was enough to make me laugh.

"Do you remember when we used to listen in on Colonel Blake?" she asked me randomly. "Radar used to join us."

Hearing Henry's name stopped me. I tried not to think about him. It was enough that he was dead and I could not rush over the hurdle. Time will heal wounds, they always said, but war had a way of creeping up with odd memories. I only nodded. My lip quivered. It took all of my being to not cry.

"I miss him, you know? And I can't stop remembering all the annoying things we did." Kellye sighed. "It's…strange. I keep thinking I see him and I don't. Isn't that crazy?"

"Maybe." My lips felt frozen. Time had stopped.

"I look back at the year we've been away," Kellye continued in a faraway voice. "It's been so tough, Jeanie. I see you and wonder how much strength you've got to get through this. I keep remembering all the bad things, not the good. Can't you?"

The question blew me away. Me, have _strength_? I didn't believe Kellye. I was happy in my new home. I was ecstatic that I had an adoring family that was growing. To have an image that portrayed a future that was free of Korea? Kellye was imagining things!

"Jeanie?" Kellye shook me from the reverie. "Are you ok?"

I felt like a dream had been broken. The world grew bright again. I smiled to convey a message of hope and gratitude. I held Kellye's hand and squeezed.

"I wish it was as easy as you say," I said. "Hawkeye and I try very hard."

"How do you find it in you?" Kellye pressed. "My family doesn't understand me. Hawkeye's Dad does."

"Remembering that I am human," I admitted. I pulled my hand away from hers. "People can appear to understand you. They'll say all they want that they want to reach you and hug you tightly. But it doesn't always work that way. You get angry and defensive. You lash out at people who want to help. Unless they went through our suicide, they cannot delve into our hearts and minds and erase that pain. And that's the tragedy we face. We are united under the guise of seeing one another."

Kellye was wide-eyed. "But we do want to see each other!"

"But it's because we _need_ each other," I clarified. "It's not because we want something from the other. I actually enjoy this." I motioned to the room and the window. "I wouldn't have traded this for the world."

By then, Margaret reentered with six other women, burnt from the sun and wind. They flocked right over and competed with Kellye for rights to Hawkeye's side of the bed. They also asked me how I was feeling and what Shannon can do now. All the voices came all at once, enough that I was getting a headache.

 _This is what I deserve for asking for company._

This continued for some time – bouncing, questioning and playing. Eventually, it quieted down into something that resembled a gossiping circle. Once one of the girls brought out a deck of cards, it was on, with bets on hair pins, bows, scarfs and more (since Shannon was learning how to play and she didn't have money). Margaret mentioned the upcoming poker game as she dealt the cards for our own game of spades and inquired if anybody wanted to join in.

None of the girls seemed too interested. Sidney hinted the day before about it and the second mention made me eager and antsy. I wanted nothing more than some excitement. Even though I promised myself that I should be following all doctor's orders, I was bored. I couldn't keep sitting in isolation until after the baby was born. There had to be some variety other than listening to complaints and woes, feeling sorry for myself, sleeping off the insomnia and reading endless books.

"Can you bring me in?" I asked Margaret when she and her partner put down their cards.

She was surprised. "I don't see why not," she cautioned. "I'll see what I can do."

It meant that she was going to ask a doctor. I sighed and continued to play. My daughter was my partner and she was a pretty damned good one too. Shannon managed to learn quickly and was excited to win a few items. The girls allowed her prizes and soon quit the game.

It was dinnertime anyway. Margaret ushered everybody out and went to check on any updates about Frank. There was nothing yet (so said the colonel) and Hawkeye and Dad were waiting for Greg's call. While she was there, Margaret did mention the poker game. I didn't hear the words. The basics seemed to point to defeat, but Margaret was more persistent. Eventually, she returned with a big grin on her face. She had won the argument.

"Hawkeye said no more than two hours," she announced cheerfully.

I swung my legs over, dangling them over the floor in a gesture of rebellion. I held out my arms to her. "When do we start?"

"How about in an hour?" Margaret pulled me up and began our trek. "It won't hurt if you're outside."

And that was how I ended my day before the game. Margaret and I sat on the beach, joined occasionally by others who watched the sunset with us. Shannon was also there. Luckily, she was soon fast asleep in my lap. Dad brought her to bed and returned to bring everyone together. The first round was announced and was taking place in the kitchen.

Sidney had the last laugh. As soon as I arrived with Margaret, money quickly exchanged hands and many groaned. Apparently, there were bets on if I was coming or not. Sidney had won, bring the only person who didn't see me sleeping as they counted their victories and losses.


	28. Fight for Stability

_May 30, 1954  
Crabapple Cove, Maine_

 _It's been some days since I've written, Journal. To be honest, other than the unofficial start of summer coming up, it's been pretty damned difficult to. With so much going on and more to ponder, I can't sit still enough to write and my hand hurts every time I think about it. There are also more pressing matters that required some attention._

 _One of them is Frank Burns. I know I've written about him before. But Jesus Christ, what an idiot! He was so inept at surgery that both colonels at the camp almost canned him for not following the book. He was so military and ridiculous that we did everything to sabotage his efforts, to make the war more bearable. He was so unchristian that he made my mother appear in every way to be a saint. Oh, I could go on about this miserable man!_

 _He left the 4077_ _th_ _long before I began writing in this book. It wasn't too hard to figure out why. Dean had warned us about it a long time ago and it all had to do with a blonde head nurse named Margaret Houlihan. They had a torrid affair before Margaret decided she was going to marry Donald Penobscott. Frank wasn't going to give up his wife back home and wanted to install Margaret in an apartment, to visit her on the side when the urge got to him. Instead, he tried to save his marriage and tarnished Margaret's name in the process._

 _Well, Margaret's marital attempt is well-known. At the time of her engagement, she was so in love with Donald that she forgot all about her lipless wonder. This rocked Frank's boat so much that he went nuts and he was transferred out before Margaret returned from her honeymoon. After going insane every blonde he could, he was promoted to lieutenant colonel and sent to a position at the VA, close to where his wife and children were housed. All charges pressed against him were dropped._

 _That's the Reader's Digest version, to be honest. There's more to the story. But here's the thing: since Frank learned Margaret married Donald, he's been mixing himself with all of the blondes he could find, thinking they are Margaret. He'll accost them, suck on their toes, tried to paint their nails…whatever he did with Margaret during their ruinous tenure. Recently, a woman at the VA (and yes, she was blonde) got him going and he's heading this way, even though he told Hawkeye that he wasn't showing up._

 _This has gotten all of us up in arms and protective. While some people deem Frank insignificant, we do believe that he is using any means possible to get to Margaret. Come hell or high water though, he won't stand a chance. We've got people on the lookout for him. Greg Keller already has the MPs on his tail. I called Daddy for a small favor and he has his aide, Lieutenant Hastings, and his men checking every nook and cranny on the east coast. Colonel Potter also has a few friends helping out._

 _Frank has been allusive as to his whereabouts. Somebody will spot him and run, but that jackass is always one step ahead and sometimes leaves bread crumbs. Last he was seen, it was on a bus in Pennsylvania. Lieutenant Hastings noted his presence and ordered the bus stopped, but by the time his men surrounded the area, Frank was gone. He jumped out of a window of the vehicle and disappeared. He didn't leave a track that time._

 _Margaret is so nervous. I can't blame her! She says that she regrets this relationship everyday. Back then, she was uptight, tough and rude. However, the woman she was then is different than the one now. I am proud of the way Margaret grew in the three years we served together. She can beat this jerk (and has before, I must add). Frank is no match for Margaret Houlihan._

 _Otherwise, it's been a battle to keep people from killing each other. I will initially name a pair that have been trying to since the war. Yes, another debacle was Klinger and Zale. I didn't write of them much because their situation is immature and did not merit my time and energy. However, a short version of their antics will do just fine. They are just as responsible for our lives being spent on their drama._

 _We all agreed to put our differences aside for the reunion. This meant Zale and Klinger had to keep their mouths shut. Crabapple Cove is a big enough place they could keep away from each other for days and not know the other was present. However, the two seemed attracted to each other like magnets and their opposite personalities were drawn to each other. They never left each other alone!_

 _Zale saw Klinger first, some days ago. He actually greeted the former company clerk civilly enough. Then, he had to comment about Klinger's recent run-ins with the law and how he couldn't go home to Toledo. He also boasted that he kept clean in the Army ever since being shipped from Korea and didn't pick up a Korean wife._

" _I don't need someone's permission to marry, at least," Zale added. "Besides, the future Mrs. Zale will be pure American."_

 _That got Klinger in defense mode. He immediately punched Zale's lights out without anybody lifting a finger to help either one of them. Klinger could take shit about his activities._ _Nobody_ _insulted his wonderful wife._

 _From there, it went back and forth. Zale will see Klinger and make his comments. Klinger will see Zale and come up with some stupid shit that will cause another fistfight. Everybody has been caught in the middle of their interactions. It was enough that even Mrs. Pettigrew had to break one up. Larry accidentally got caught in the middle of one as he and his girlfriend sat on the beach._

 _Hawkeye once deposited Klinger with me until Zale could be handled (because we preferred one over the other and, quite honestly, we love Soon-Lee too and did not want to punish her). Once_ that _idiot was out of town and headed back to base in South Carolina, Klinger was free. Soon-Lee didn't need to hear the bullshit and have Klinger defend her honor and Zale didn't have to have his lights turned off every time he saw Klinger. It was a fair trade._

 _The other argument is between Radar and Klinger. Just when we couldn't get enough of one bickering match, another started with Klinger in first place (it's almost like he's attracted to drama as much as Zale!). To be honest, the two had been at each other's throats since Radar gave his job to Klinger and was discharged. Well, Klinger still held hard feelings over the rotten way we treated him when he was company clerk job and never liked how Radar taught him the basics in the office. While they had been cordial at first, things boiled over yesterday._

 _It's Memorial Day weekend. Already, BBQs are starting up. The water is warm enough to swim in almost. Summer is almost here. We're all trying to enjoy ourselves and get into the swing of the hot season. And what does Klinger and Radar do? Argue about how things went back in Korea of course!_

 _Radar did make himself out to be a martyr of sorts, a man who gave up so much so we could survive and the man who made up creative ways to solve problems. Klinger painted a picture of sacrifice, like a lamb to the altar, and the man who filled in some large shoes. They each had a story to tell, one taller than the other, about how well they did as company clerk, even though Radar was not around with Klinger in charge of the office. Radar had the guts to scream at Klinger that he'd be nothing without the tutoring. Klinger denied that it even happened!_

 _Father Mulcahy actually broke up that fight by getting_ _into_ _the fight itself. Klinger was cruel and aimed for Radar's glasses, meaning to break them. Radar learned a few new tricks and headed right for where the sun didn't shine. And as the good Padre got right in the middle and was punched and kicked in the head simultaneously by two headstrong men._

 _BJ relayed the story to me after it finished. Father Mulcahy was quite annoyed by the childishness of both and managed to hit one and then the other with his right fist. It went so fast that nobody saw it coming. Klinger and Radar were very shocked! They sat on the beach, stunned into silence._

" _It was like a blur," BJ swore. "Father Mulcahy was pretty damned fast."_

" _At least someone has a little reason," I replied. I was irritated myself that_ _my_ _home is becoming a place for fighting, especially for Klinger. "What happened next?"_

" _Father Mulcahy pinned Klinger down with one leg and managed to get Radar with his arms," BJ continued. "Mrs. O'Reilly got in the way and took Radar. The colonel went to Klinger's side. Then, there were so many people in the way that Father Mulcahy had to fight his way out and knock some sense into the two individually when they tried going for round two."_

"' _There is only one kind of shock worse than the totally unexpected: the expected for which one has refused to prepare,'" I quoted._

 _BJ was confused about where the source was and countered with one citation of his own. "'God has mercifully ordered that the human brain works slowly; first the blow, hours afterward the bruise.'"_

"' _Her eyes were full of a hot liquid (she did not think of tears at first) which, without disturbing the firmness of her lips, made the air thick, rolled down her cheeks. She had perfect control of herself – Oh, yes! – in every other way.'"_

" _Oh, ho, Virginia Woolf! Where did the other one come from?"_

 _I pulled out a book and turned to the page in question to show BJ. Greg recently sent me a package full of goodies from England, as a gift of sorts for coming home in one piece and becoming a parent. Some things he thought prudent to share since we could not get some items here in the US, like books and some alcohol. One of the tomes he sent I was currently reading. The book, "The Charioteer" by Mary Renault, was published last year in England. He thought it was dribble and didn't like the homosexual theme in it. I loved it._

 _BJ waved it away. "I'll read it when Reader's Digest edits."_

" _Anyway," I picked up, "how did the fight end?"_

" _Your father-in-law managed to stop it before Father Mulcahy got out of control," BJ concluded. "Nothing much there. It was like a bar fight was controlled by the most sober man in the hall."_

 _I sighed. "That isn't much," I commented lamely._

 _BJ shrugged his shoulders. "You had to be there. I have to say, your father-in-law is almost as fast as Father Mulcahy. Everybody was separated and sent to their corners. Mrs. O'Reilly has Radar standing in one. I think he's still there."_

" _And Klinger?" I actually was amused that Radar was still being treated like a child._

" _Soon-Lee has a corner with his name on it too," BJ recounted in glee. "He's standing in your neighbor's yard. After their punishment, the unruly pair will first help her trim the roses and bushes."_

 _I hooted just as a back cramp hit me. I almost stopped laughing, it was so noticeable to me. But I didn't want to say anything yet. I didn't know if I was going into labor yet or not. It was going to take time to figure it out._

 _BJ noted it. "You ok?"_

" _I'm fine," I reassured him, reducing my reaction to a giggle. "Now, what else did Mrs. Pettigrew con Radar and Klinger into?"_

 _There was a laundry list apparently. Mrs. Pettigrew was going to keep them together. Even though Radar was short, she had ways to get him to higher heights. Her house needed some cleaning on the outside, with all the sea salt and all. There was trash to be picked up. Her railing needed some repairs. A chair didn't sit right. Oh, there was more for them to do!_

 _And I sat there on the bed, smiling wider as BJ counted down the list, ticking each task on his fingers. At the same time, I was trying to time the cramping. It wasn't going in a pattern, but it subsided and returned half an hour later and then ten minutes later. It relieved me that it didn't worsen. But it meant I was getting closer to the due date. I had maybe two weeks left before full term._

 _Speaking of pain, my hand is cramping badly. I am going to stop writing now. Tomorrow, there's going to be a BBQ. Dad managed to get the local fishermen to sell us some early season lobsters. Hawkeye is going to cook them on the beach in the firepit. I am even allowed to go outside! How exciting is that?_

~00~

It couldn't have been a better Memorial Day. The sun was shining. The water was warm enough to swim in finally. The lobsters were delicious. The company was harmonious. What more could I have asked for?

The only thing hanging over our heads was Frank. He still had not been located. After many attempts, everybody lost him in Connecticut. All parties had him cornered in some remote little town road. It was raining and hard to keep him contained in one spot. Frank spent time jumping from one side of the road to another to avoid men grabbing for him. Eventually, there was a loud noise from the woods and Frank broke free when everyone was distracted.

This information floated from one person to another as we ate, joked and enjoyed the warm Monday night. By the time the stars were out and the moon shone brightly, all of us remaining awake (Hawkeye and myself, BJ, Margaret and Keith Charles, Colonel Potter and Addie and Sidney) were tired and wary. Questions rang through our minds concerning this mad man. If we went to sleep this night, will Frank appear? Will the line of defense be broken as we slumbered? Will the chasers be on his tail if he arrived in Crabapple Cove and disturb the eerie quiet we craved? Is Frank even nearby, watching us?

Margaret broke the silence and addressed the elephant in the room. "We can take shifts."

"Huh?" BJ put down his beer bottle and looked at her.

"We can take shifts," Margaret repeated stubbornly. "We have to keep an eye out for Frank."

"Margaret, you're not in charge of him anymore," Hawkeye reminded her. "You don't have the lease on him."

"You let that one go ages ago," the colonel reminded her. "Let it go, Margaret. Burns has lost it. You don't need to feel responsible for him anymore."

Keith put his arms around Margaret. "They're right. Besides, he isn't getting into town without somebody knowing it."

"The locals know what he's like," Hawkeye added. "They'll hold him hostage."

"Eddie will keep him on him on the rocks," I reminded her. "He has friends that will take over."

Margaret's forehead crinkled into wrinkles. "You all don't know Frank like I do. He won't stop until he gets his way."

"Oh, don't me started," Hawkeye moaned. "I spent two years with the man and you're telling me that I don't know him like you do? _Please_. I've been counting biblical verses of hypocrisy through my eyelids. I could recount every whimpering snivel he uttered, from money to his wife. You can't sit there and tell me, Margaret, that I don't know him like you do. I just didn't undress him and play hide and seek with a deck of cards of nail polish."

BJ interjected before Margaret screamed (it was obvious she was going to explode). "The point is, the man is nuts. I'm sure there is some psychological explanation for this."

Addie sighed in exasperation, enough that some heads turned at her rudeness. I could have shaken her. Oh, she is a kind woman and a wonderful help. On the other hand, she is also impatient with situations and people and did not seem to understand anything zany (or, for that matter, support Sidney's profession). Anything without a reasonable explanation (except for the devout nonsense of the Bible) was nonsense. Life had an order and there shouldn't be deviance from that norm.

Sidney jumped in, ignoring his wife. "Obsession is something that gets pretty vague," he explained quickly. "It's also very board. It varies from person to person. They can hallucinate or they can get over the hurdle. They can lose the focus or keep their sights on it. Frank either has to have control or let his mind run with it."

"For example, _Klinger_ ," Charles said as he finished his lobster. He placed his plate at his feet. His aide picked it up and stood nearby, ready for the order to take it inside. Charles waved him away. "Wasn't he so obsessed with getting out of the Army?"

"It was a dream, if I remember our dear little orderly," Sidney clarified. He paused. "Some might view it as an obsession because he always found a reason to get away. But then again, Klinger could handle a breakup. He's foolish, but he found reason. Frank Burns has nerves of glass. The slightest shake will shatter them."

"One event hammered him into the mess he became," I recalled. I turned to Hawkeye and BJ. "Do you remember trying to locate him after he disappeared from the camp?"

"Worst time spent." BJ rolled his eyes.

"We could have been toasting the succession of fresh eggs in his cot," Hawkeye conceded.

"Obsession can bring about a nervous breakdown," Sidney continued, to prove our point. "The only way to get him through it is to lock him up and treat him. Frank is one extreme case. Margaret is an addiction he cannot break."

Margaret blushed. I saw that she was so embarrassed to be talked about in this manner. I couldn't blame her. To be the person who began this madness is something I cannot imagine. I mean, if Hawkeye had gone the same way as Frank, I would have rethought marriage and moving to Crabapple Cove. He missed people and places with an intensity I now understood, especially viewing this beauty myself. But to permanently be locked into a fantasy, forever chasing a mirage, could not be swallowed.

"I think I am retiring," Margaret quickly announced, as a way to avoid the conversation. She stood up with Keith. "I'll see you all in the morning."

Our eyes followed Margaret and Keith as they made their way back to the house. Dad was already there. He met them at the back porch and opened the door for them. There were a few words exchanged before the pair entered without my father-in-law. I did see that Dad appeared tense. He had something to say and approached us slowly.

"She seems so…I don't know… _obsessive_ …herself," Addie commented quite casually. Everybody turned their attention from Margaret and Keith to her. "Don't you think this is a little out of hand?"

"I can reassure you, Frank is a real threat," BJ replied. "His scalpel is worse than his bite."

Addie looked at all of us in equal measure hearing BJ's evident threat. Her eyes searched for something that might have rationalized our fears – reassurance, confidence too – and found nothing. It seemed like her bravado cracked and that her theory of orderliness and praying to God went out of the window. She squared her shoulders and sighed again.

"So, where does Margaret Houlihan fit into the picture?" she asked carefully.

"A well-used ship that sailed past his docks, as we've said," Colonel Potter clarified. "Sidney isn't off. Burns really is off his rocker."

"Speaking of Frank Burns," Dad said as he came into our circle, "we have a phone call about him. Jeanie, it's from someone named Greg Keller?"

"I guess it's my turn," I said, frustrated. Greg could have asked Hawkeye and that was what made it worse. "I'll turn in afterward. Good night!"

Everyone echoed their sentiments as I got up and waddled inside, to the living room. Dad, who was a tad faster, went ahead of me, to make sure the phone line remained open, and kept talking to Greg until I arrived. He handed it to me and backed away. He also stayed nearby, in case I could pass on information or if I was weary.

"This isn't a social call, is it, Greg?" I greeted carefully.

"How did you know?" There was an exhale of smoke loud enough that I could _smell_ Greg's cigar. "For all you know, this could be an early-morning call that could help a hangover or insomnia."

"I doubt it," I whispered as I saw a light upstairs turn on and then off. "What do you have for me?"

"Frank Burns is a menace," Greg announced. "Whatever the Army does to him is their business. But the CIA is interested in him. He's been in a war zone and can blab secrets. What else is new?"

"Did you capture him or is he still free?"

"Oh, no, we got him. Well, General Morrison's men did. But they handed him over to the CIA once I sent in the papers."

"Other than Korea, for what reason is he in custody?"

"Oh, ho, you're not working under us anymore. I can't tell you."

"For all that I've done, you can't at least tell your fellow American the truth?"

"You can't get the truth out of me. I don't know it myself."

I knew that this was going around in circles. But I was patient. Greg was going to tell me everything eventually. If Frank was an interest to the CIA, he must have done more than grabbed women who looked like Margaret. He may be a patriotic American, but even people like Frank were putty in the hands of the wrong people. His loose lips, especially in the state he was in, will certainly sink a few ships…because he told them to those on our side.

"Listen, is he going to be an issue later?" I demanded. "Do we have to hear from him again?"

"Right now, he's in a padded truck without a way to escape," Greg boasted gleefully. "I wouldn't ask much about him anymore, Jeanie. He'll go back for Fort Wayne, but he's bound to rush off again and get pulled by one of us. We'll keep tabs on him though. He won't get anywhere near you all ever again."

I was relieved. It was evident on my face. As I relaxed, I replied, "What am I telling everyone?"

"Just the truth." I imagined Greg shrugging his shoulders in indifference. "I wouldn't let any other details free. I told you enough."

"And what do I owe you?" I knew there was a price.

"Your pretty lips telling me all of your happy news," Greg promised. The tone of his voice was genuine. "You've done enough for me, saved my ass many times. I tried making up for it in Korea, but I don't think it's enough."

Surprised, I just wished him well and told him to go to sleep. I hung up and faced my father-in-law warily. While he caught me once under the guise of a spy, he wasn't going to again. Instead, I smiled to ward away the intense wave of awareness, paranoia and nostalgia. I had a purpose in the Army, but that was over now. I was never looking back.

"What news?" Dad asked, even though I'm sure he had an idea it was good.

"I think we can let our guard down," I informed him. "Frank Burns is in safekeeping. We don't have to worry about him anymore."

Dad nodded sagely. "Why don't you go to bed? You must be tired. I'll let everyone know."

I conceded. I shrugged away his help and ambled my way upstairs alone. I should have taken it, but I was stubborn. I wanted to savor this information alone. As soon as I reached the bedroom, I turned the light on and crawled into bed. Before I could allow sleep to claim me, I had to write in my journal. I reached for it and a pen, dated my next entry, and only wrote the following:

 _Frank Burns is no longer a threat. I think that's enough._


	29. Anniversaries and Arrivals

The early June days were wonderful and teased a summer unlike Korea ever gave us. The reunion was winding down and, knowing this, we all used the time much more wisely and remained together as much as we could. The beckoning of warmth even got to me, enough that even I disobeyed doctor's orders and socialized as much as I could (even if it meant sitting in the living room with the sunburnt bodies or keeping company in the bedroom with open windows). While everyone began to mill in and out more and more and farewells until next year were said, our main crew remained and Trapper returned alone. That was our only comfort.

Hawkeye and I were also celebrating one year married by the tenth day of the month. I had nothing planned except cleaning if I could get up, since Hawkeye was threatened to being dragged around to various establishments (and I didn't mind at all that I wasn't included). However, it was pretty obvious something else was being prearranged and it wasn't going outside of the house. Ever since Memorial Day, there have been whispers and they stopped only when Hawkeye and I were around. Even Peg was mysterious and maintained a smile of confidence amongst the conspirators, despite her morning sickness and big mouth.

I went through the wave of mystery without making much noise or inquiring. I made myself not scream in frustration at them because their strategies were not so well hidden. There wasn't a point in getting all worked over about nothing. I had two weeks left before everyone departed from Crabapple Cove anyway. Like in Korea, I could deal with a few celebrations and hardly-kept secrets. Sometimes, when we were so bored and had so many people in one location, it was best to grin and bear it.

It was a good distraction anyway. Before our anniversary, Hawkeye and I already had a few scares. From the first of June onward, I've had warning signs that the baby was coming and had felt the same old cramps. Every few days, we were in Portland. Each time, we've been turned away and had to call home before trekking, to let them know that this day was not it. I was close, but there was still time yet.

Other things frightened me too. As June 10 rose with a cheery sun and a light sea breeze, I woke up at dawn to think. One year _married_. I could not believe it. Four years ago, I didn't believe a day like this would come. It was six months after Falk was killed and not even two months before I was dropped off in Korea. There was no hope left in me.

I flipped back to my journal and found the entry about the wedding. I remembered it well, but I longed for the happiness Korea hardly gave and needed the boost before facing people. I included my conversation with Daddy (that was when we began our unusual reconciliation). I believe it was written in Seoul at the time, when we were getting the feel of each other.

I skimmed through ten pages of nonsense. Then, I backed it up to when I mentioned the day of the wedding. From there, I read.

 _The day of the wedding – Wednesday, June 10, 1953 – was actually a little cloudy to start as I fit myself back into that dress, but had turned warm, hazy and a little humid by the time noon arrived, the appointed hour which had made butterflies in my stomach. Then, things became a blur to me once more, the tickling gone and the seriousness of the matter put through my mind. That day was my anticipated wedding day._

 _Images flashed before my eyes as the wedding took place, the procession clearing into the Mess Tent. Margaret and Kellye followed me as the bridesmaids (sort of), Daddy taking over to give me away. Three doctors and even Sidney flanked the chief surgeon as the ceremony began and we were married by Father Mulcahy. Annabeth Pierce's ring was then put back on my finger again and I put Hawkeye's ring on his finger._

 _Soon though, our vows and other promises (like a night out of town) were exchanged and it was over and all was settled. I was married. I was a wife and mother and no longer the Jeanie I had been before the war, even when I arrived at the 4077_ _th_ _as the brokenhearted former CIA spy who lost a lover. I was a new Jeanie, a woman bond for life to a man who loved and adored me from the moment we started talking. I am Mrs. Jeanette Pierce._

 _As soon as we were pronounced man and wife, I smiled at Hawkeye, receiving the same back from him. We then turned around to the facing crowds, listening to them shout and cheer. Despite all that, I thought. And all I felt, looking back at the inconsolable, lonely Jeanie from three years ago to the one who stood there married, was a woman who had found her true happiness at last. The new Jeanie had finally found her footing, despite tragedy and death around her and stepped forward. A new life was ahead of me and I could not wait for it to start._

 _My father and brother were even smiling with relief and approval the whole time. Robert was like me in so many ways, a twin almost. Hell, he could not complain about Hawkeye, even eying the Swamp's still with a hunger I had never seen before and an appetite that made me laugh. However, he could_ never _replace Dean in my affections. He's more of a drinking partner than a brother though, and kind enough to light a thousand days. Almost fifty with grey eyes and fading red hair like his mother (youthful nonetheless), Robert is a man that takes the most destitute state of affairs and tries to make the best of it. In the war, he is a worthy opponent, but is fair and hands justice down with a firm hand._

 _After the reception and a party to end all parties with personnel and wounded alike (rivaling even my "Welcome Back" party), Hawkeye and I were granted a few days in Seoul. We left by jeep in the evening as the sun dipped to allow the moon to rise, several high heel shoes that used to belong to Klinger and the other nurses hanging from the back bumper with "Just Married" advertising our new status as man and wife. Hawkeye took the wheel (laughing about my driving) and I sat in the passenger seat, waving to everyone and thanking them. I kissed one and all, hugged too many people to count and even declared Colonel Potter the best. I also threw the bouquet as Hawkeye drove away, telling me how my destiny meant a bedroom and some wine. Squeals of delight followed me as Hawkeye promised me the world. I do not know who grabbed it, but whoever it was, it made the girls happy._

 _The orders had been clear in the meantime. If something happened, Colonel Potter said that he was going to call us and get our asses back to camp, which was fine by us. Of course though, no calls have been put through so far and it's been very peaceful here in the city with no enemy fire around anymore. It's a perfect honeymoon so far. It's been full of time alone, walks in the park under trees that braved their green leaves and even time in bed with wine and no worries._

 _And I wrote about maybe ten pages or more worth of things! I'm still not fond of writing as always, but I think it was worth it, Journal. The excitement of yesterday has yet to wear me down and even reliving it – the beauty, joy and creation of love – has made me smile._

 _Hawkeye's waking up now. I'll be calling for our breakfast in bed soon and dressing myself before a maid comes in to see us. God, it's still unbelievable. I am married and soon to be out of this Army, to see my daughter after the war ends. It's almost like a dream come true to me._

 _For, after all, happily ever after never felt so good before, especially for us._

I kept rereading that last passage over and over again, especially that last line. It had been a year since I wrote and so much has changed since then. However, some things remained the same – the optimism, yearning and wistfulness of peace that comes with the end of war. Yes, it was a happily ever after, with a stable home and a family.

I was going to write something down, but as I found the next spot, I sadly realized that I had a page left in the tome, right underneath the mention of Frank. I put my pen down and sighed, putting everything back on my nightstand. The journal that held me through the end of the war (with Hawkeye's additions) and into the first year in Maine was virtually filled. I was nearing the birth of my second child and that silly journal will not be there to celebrate it with me.

For some reason, the thoughts filled me with tears. I wiped them away quickly, but they kept coming. I chided myself. I shouldn't have been upset over an empty book I filled with preposterous musings and notes from Hawkeye. It was just a journal, for God's sake!

"Jeanie, what's the matter?" Hawkeye was already awake and cleaning my face with the bedsheet. "Do we need to drive to –"

"No, no," I reassured him. I felt ridiculous, even as I showed him the last page that allowed to me to finish. "Hawkeye, why is it so hard?"

My husband was baffled. He took the journal and flipped through it. Our words from Korea and onward filled his eyes deliciously. He savored each one, but never slowed down to read them completely, he was so pleased that it was used. Finally, he stopped at the end of my last entry about Frank being captured. He took the writing utensil from nearby and wrote the date and _Crabapple Cove, Maine_. He put down that it was our anniversary and that we're happy still. He closed the book and handed it back to me.

"You told me you hate writing," he plainly stated.

"I know," I sobbed. I held the two items close to my heart. "I feel so – so – I don't know. Silly. It's the end of something."

Hawkeye shook his head and wet the sheets keeping me from crying. He held me in-between my madness and eventually had to use another sheet to keep himself from getting soaked (he was only in his underwear and wore enough sweat). By the time I was finished, everything used was completely wet and had to be washed. Margaret had also arrived. She was upset that I was emotional and started yelling at Hawkeye. My husband was frustrated at the blame and countered with insults of his own.

"Can't a man wake up peacefully in his own shorts?" he ended.

"Not if you ruin your anniversary!" Margaret retorted. She continued on with a rant about how Hawkeye didn't get the day off to a good start until Dad entered, his arms draped in rubber sheets.

"Margaret, I think that's enough," he interjected gently. He put a fatherly hand on her shoulder. "I'll take it from here."

She protested, beginning with a wordless scream and remaining with words that jumbled from one to another. Margaret wasn't going to give up without a fight. After all, she had to give the establishment a piece of her mind! A man was totally destructing a day that was supposed to be happy and carefree and his pregnant wife was in tears. Why would somebody argue that?

As he laid the elastic pieces down on the bed, Dad listened with as much patience as he could muster. He learned early on (and from Colonel Potter, I must add) that Margaret was a hurricane that was difficult to master. There was an eye to the storm somewhere, but the trick was to get there. Margaret would exhaust herself somewhere before picking up again.

"And you've done a _wonderful_ job taking care of Jeanie and Hawkeye," Dad replied sternly when Margaret finished again. "I don't doubt you devotion. But today is their day. Let them be."

Margaret was going to have another go, but my father-in-law was quicker. He physically grabbed her by the shoulders and escorted her out forcefully. He reentered the bedroom and snagged Hawkeye's red robe. He tossed it on the bed in front of Hawkeye.

"For Christ's sake, Hawkeye, look a little more decent in front of company," he announced. It was the first time I heard him swore and it took me by surprise. When he noted this, he added, "Don't get me started. Jeanie, if you're up to it, you can leave. If not, stay in bed. Mrs. Potter has Shannon today."

"I think we should drive to Portland," Hawkeye reported.

Dad peered at me with a critical eye. "No. Not yet. Considering how many times they've sent you home, I wouldn't try another time." When Hawkeye appeared to be ready for his own battle, Dad held his hands in the air in defeat. "Your call then. Jeanie looks fine to me."

"I am," I reassured them both. "Nobody _asked_ me anyway." I stuck my tongue out at Hawkeye. "You're paranoid."

"I'd control the crying, if I were you," Dad also warned me. "I don't want Margaret telling everybody. I'll have every nurse on my ass until the end of the day." He paused. "Oh! Put the sheets on."

"Why?" I was confused. "We don't need them."

Dad winked. "I have a feeling."

With promises to act our age and to change the sheets to the suggested set, Hawkeye and I dressed. I opted to sit outside for breakfast with Shannon and Mrs. Potter. It was a bad idea. As soon as the daunting tasks of getting into a dress and grooming myself was finished, the pain began again. Something inside shifted. But I smiled through it. As soon as Hawkeye and I descended to the living room, there were balloons and streamers everywhere. I pretended the part of joyful and excited when people shouted at us.

"Is it too early to drink?" Trapper asked Hawkeye eagerly.

"I thought you took a pledge?" Hawkeye inquired. It was a question I heard ages ago and was surprised to hear now. "We don't suckle milk until after breakfast? Family first?"

"Mine is in Boston, safe and sound," Trapper reminded him. "There's no private detective here."

For the first time in some years, Hawkeye laughed with Trapper. I peered around the corner for BJ and didn't find him. I was amazed. There was no moderator between the pair.

 _They can learn to be themselves together again._

Peg was nearby though. She had Erin in her arms and soon released her to join Mrs. Potter and Shannon. She appeared like she had a bad morning and excused herself after Erin was safely deposited, rushing upstairs. When Hawkeye was looking the other way, I raced after her.

Peg was quite green. I waited in the bathroom doorway until she was done throwing up. When I made myself known, she was embarrassed that someone saw her weakness. But she faced worse. With wobbly legs, she stood up and flushed, wiping her mouth with her other hand as she hid her transgressions.

"Is it December yet?" she asked me with a forced giggle.

"I was telling myself that six, seven months ago," I replied with a grin of my own. I leaned against the entryway heavily. "Men get the easy part. There's so much we have to do. The expectations are so heavy."

"Does Hawkeye ever bother you about…you know, having a boy?" Peg peered at me with a raised eyebrow. The question was a distraction.

"Oh, no!" I comforted her. "Why? Is BJ doing it to you?"

"No," Peg let out. Her mouth twitched in a sort of grimace. "He wants another little girl."

"Really? _Why_? Did Erin tell him that it's what she wanted?"

"No. Erin doesn't want to be a big sister. She's been fighting us about it until we came here."

"Shannon is excited, but she's confused about it. She's expecting someone about her age and size. Then, she sees her dolls and knows that they're just as small."

Hearing this, Peg suddenly burst into tears. I was so alarmed that my eyes grew misty too. Before I knew it, we were in each other's arms and crying. Luckily, nobody heard the noise. A few minutes later, we stopped and laughed at each other anyway.

"If BJ and Hawkeye saw us," Peg began.

"They'd be pulling their hair out," I concluded.

The moment of frustration passed. From then on, we were in high spirits and spoke of how our girls took to the news of a new brother or sister. I continued with tales of Shannon's wishes and then realizing how the new baby will be just like her dolls for a while. Peg regaled how Erin cried and carried on, wishing that she was the sole apple of Daddy's eye until playing with Shannon.

"It's like Shannon turned Erin around," Peg gushed. "It's been a good change."

"They're wonderful for each other," I pointed out.

Peg agreed. By then, we realized that too much time passed. We decided to join the others downstairs. Arm-in-arm, we arrived in the living room and mingled with the others until I tired and chose to sit down in my rocking chair. Peg found a chair and sat nearby and we continued our chat, increasing our laughter. Nobody noticed that we were gone thankfully and did not pepper us with inquiries either. Only BJ swung around and checked on us. He was baffled by our giddy reaction to everything. It was like we were drunk on more than alcohol. It was life we were drinking in. We thirsted for more of it.

"You doing ok?" He eyed his wife and then me. "You two don't need anything?"

"No," Peg answered, for both of us. While she still gave the impression that her morning sickness didn't abate, she kept up the façade. "I'd like to go swimming though."

BJ looked at Peg like she was insane. "Say again?"

"Just get me some strawberry ice cream please," Peg said instead. She winked at me. "I'd like it as mushy as you can make it."

~00~

In the end, Hawkeye and I didn't have time to drive to Portland. Two days after our anniversary, my labor began late in the morning while I was cleaning. My only witness and helper was my daughter, who was coloring. I told her to get Hawkeye and went for the bedroom. I knew that out of sight and mind meant that she was safe and so was her sibling. Hawkeye will be able to help in his destitute state…if he wasn't pacing.

I expected to be dragged to the car and rushed to the hospital. As I laid on the bed though, this train of through ceased. As soon as Hawkeye rushed upstairs to help me, my water broke and flooded from the rubber sheets to the hardwood floor. Blood flowed so freely afterward that we knew that there wasn't time. I had to stay home and push the baby out.

Dad was right behind Hawkeye and just knew. From there on out, he barked orders, from Hawkeye to those behind him asking what was happening. As soon as the crowds behind him were told to head downstairs, he gave Hawkeye instructions. Despite my husband's protests, he only tossed Hawkeye gloves and some needed equipment and stood guard at the closed door.

It was best that way. I don't know how many arguments Dad got into, between handling the traffic and keeping it from assembling around our bedroom doorway. Between Trapper, Margaret and BJ, he had his hands full. Hell, I don't know how many arguments we heard on the other side of our bedroom door, but there were enough voices there that Hawkeye had to yell a few times for everyone to shut up. Dad echoed the same sentiments.

Hawkeye was so nervous anyway. This wasn't some field hospital in Korea or a sanitized establishment in the States. This was our bedroom. It was dirty enough with the dust piles and the empty beer bottles. Anything could happen between now and birth, from infection and fever to the inability to stanch heavy blood flows.

It was tough initially. Hawkeye laid with me on the bed and waited the first hour out as the contractions continued and grew closer in timing. Then, when the shouting outside subsided to an agreeable silence, he was at the end of the bed. Afterward, he stepped back and forth, caught between trying to hold my hand and seeing if there was trouble.

I tried not to concentrate on the tension. There was enough drama to keep my head spinning. There was also something else that caught my attention. When Hawkeye settled at the edge of the bed, there was somebody sitting with me. When the labor sometimes became too much, this invisible, uplifting presence calmed me. I don't know who it was (I swore it was Hawkeye's mother). To know that there was comfort somewhere was a blessing, as Father Mulcahy would point out.

It was a struggle despite the company. But at the end of the five hours, all of our swearing, worries and panic came to nothing. In the midafternoon sun, as the strong sea breeze blew into the window, our second daughter was born. She was beautiful, healthy and perfect in every way, just like her sister before her.

"Jeanie, look!" Hawkeye exclaimed, holding her up with the cord still attached. "Just look at her."

I reached out weak arms to hold her, just like I did with Shannon all that time ago. Hawkeye obliged, but made sure the cord was cut and he was right next to me. I wiped away the slime and blood from my daughter's face as he watched for the placenta. Her gummy mouth responded by yelping at the injustice of being born. We were in love again.

"Time!" Hawkeye yelled out just as the last phase of labor ended. He was back between my legs, cleaning up as I held the baby.

"Three twenty-seven," Dad responded.

Hawkeye could not keep the joy inside. "Baby girl!" He turned to me. "What are we naming her?"

"Annabeth," I said stubbornly. "Annabeth Margaret Pierce."

Hawkeye stopped. He was shocked. He was so stuck that, when Dad entered and locked the door behind him, he still didn't register that the world continued to tilt and turn. Dad had to shake him a few times at the shoulders to get his attention. Even then, Hawkeye's mind was diverted.

Dad carried in a scale, some towels, a cloth diaper and a basin of warm water. He managed to coax the baby out of my hands. He weighed her, measured her and bathed her, all the while whistling and telling her outrageous stories, and wrote everything down for the town records. Then, he put the diaper on her and handed her back.

"What's gotten into Hawkeye?" he asked me.

"I want her named Annabeth," I replied in the same tone when I first announced her name. "Annabeth Margaret Pierce."

This made Dad pause too, but his surprise was short-lived. He smiled. "That is a lovely name," he said. "Don't you think, Hawkeye?"

Again, it took some time before Hawkeye acknowledged Dad. It took a few more minutes before he agreed to naming our baby after his mother and our favorite head nurse. Then, after all was said and done, the two finished cleaning up. Dad was an expert, working around me to get the sheets on and off the bed and helping me dress again as Hawkeye disposed of all medical waste. As they exited the room, I saw _them_. The vultures were waiting for news.

"Hey, hey!" Hawkeye pushed his way through the bodies as he closed the door, to give me privacy. "Step aside!"

"I hear, it's a baby girl?" Margaret screeched in excitement. "Oh, let me see her!"

"I think the only person going in there is Shannon," Dad announced. "Everybody else can wait."

It took some time before Shannon was allowed in. Hawkeye accompanied her, without the fuss of the other adults. By then, I was content feeding little Annabeth. With Shannon's advent, I disengaged and covered up. Hawkeye was pleased and picked our little girl up to see the bundle in my arms.

"Shannon, this is Annabeth." The name sounded strange in Hawkeye's mouth, I could tell, but he managed without breaking down. "She's your baby sister."

My little girl crawled closer. Annabeth yawned, opening her milky blue-grey eyes. Shannon was awed. She put a hand gently on the fluffy brown hair and twirled it in her fingers. With her other hand, she held Annabeth's fingers. She too held love at first sight.

"My Abee," Shannon declared. "She's my sister Abee."

 _Abee?_

Hawkeye and I exchanged confused glances. He shrugged his shoulders and I shook my head. We took the nonsense for what it was: a nickname. It was palpable that Shannon held no grudges or jealousy. While she was still the star of the family, a new one twinkled right behind her. They will never eclipse the other.

Shannon wanted to hold Annabeth. Hawkeye didn't want her doing it on her own, so took the baby from me and managed to fit himself on the bed. With Shannon in his lap and Annabeth safely in his arms, he tangled the two girls together, in a mesh that boldened a bond of familial love. I didn't want to break it. It was too perfect.

Entranced by this picture, I reached over for my journal. Nothing had been written since Hawkeye spit out that it was our anniversary. But I knew what to write on its last page. The beginning was Korea and how destitute I was and the hopelessness without a close to the war. The ending was two girls and a husband and the joy we held together as a family.

 _June 12, 1954  
Crabapple Cove, Maine_

 _Our little girl is born! Annabeth Margaret Pierce – eight pounds and two ounces, eighteen inches long, 1527 hours._

* * *

 **Yep, complete fluff. ;) Many apologies for the long chapters and the shortened version of the reunion. I didn't want to cover much. The journal entry used was from my other story "The Outcomes of Strife".**


End file.
